


The Silver Devils Play

by painted_lady12



Series: Precious Medals [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Canon Compliant, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Communication, Consent, Coping, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cutting, Denial, Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Depression, Dirty Talk, Dom Katsuki Yuuri, Dom/sub Undertones, Eating Disorders, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Festivals, Fireworks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Hand Jobs, Hiroko and Viktor Cooking Together, Hospitalization, Ice Skating, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insomnia, Intervention, Kink Discovery, Light BDSM, Love Confessions, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Masturbation, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Protective Katsuki Yuuri, Psychotropic Drugs, Public Blow Jobs, Relapsing, Scars, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Sexual Fantasy, Spanking, Sub Victor Nikiforov, Suicidal Thoughts, Supportive Victor Nikiforov, Swing Dancing, Switching, Temptation, Therapy, Triggers, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Viktor sticks out his tongue when he colors, Whipping, Worried Katsuki Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 18:58:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 106,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12018993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painted_lady12/pseuds/painted_lady12
Summary: Yuuri just defeated Yurio in the Hot Springs on Ice event.  He has everything he wants: Viktor, his family, and his friends are all showing him love and support.  However, things aren't as perfect as they appear.  Before the season starts, Yuuri has to figure out his theme of love more seriously, but how can he do that if he's struggling to even love himself?Healing takes time.  Learning patience, forgiveness, and hope take time, too.  Yuuri struggles with his own demons, and upon beginning a relationship with Viktor Nikiforov, realizes that he needs to get himself help.  But does Viktor have his own problems?A fic where Yuuri and Viktor struggle to understand each other's mental illnesses and find the silver lining in all the pain.Updates on Mondays:)Title inspired by a poem by Oves Anwar  https://www.poemhunter.com/poems/silver/page-1/2551/64





	1. Silver Blade

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!
> 
> This is my first foray into fanfiction writing so I'm very open to feedback and comments! If you feel I'm not representing something right, I want to hear from you.
> 
> This fic will delve into Yuuri's anxiety in a way that the show didn't- it's canon compliant but has more depth and exploration of his mental illness and what he has to deal with daily. I've obviously taken some creative liberties, but will try to stay true to the original story.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Discusses self harm, anxiety, anxiety attacks, and isolation, with a potential for more topics discussed later. If at any point during this fic you start to feel some type of way, please reach out to loved ones. Drink a warm cup of tea. Hug your dog. Write in your journal. Take a walk by a body of water. It won't fix it, but hopefully it will help
> 
> I don't own Yuri! on Ice no matter how much I want to.

Yuuri was at his wit’s end.

 

The cold light of dawn was shimmering over the steady waves rushing over the Hastesu shoreline.  Yuuri was running by the water, his music blasting in his ears.  His dark hair kept falling in his eyes, and he huffed, slicking it back with the sweat beading on his hairline.

 

Viktor was going to be the death of him.

 

He’d been up all night with the man.  After insisting that they sleep together, he’d quickly unfolded a sleeping bag on the floor and turned to Yuuri, demanding with sparkles in his eyes, “Tell me about your sexual history.”

 

Yuuri had gone from tired to wide awake to beet red in record time, spluttering, “Why!?”

 

Viktor had a small smirk playing on his lips, his knowing stare piercing through Yuuri’s very soul.  “If I’m going to help you perfect your Eros, I need to know what I’m working with.”

 

Yuuri puzzled through that really quickly.  The logic was sound.  It made sense, right?  The words were sticking in his throat, though, the topic not something he particularly enjoyed discussing.

 

“You first.”

 

It tumbled out before he even realized it.  His eyes widened into saucers as soon as it was in the open, the two tiny words hanging heavily between them in his cramped bedroom.

 

The only light in the room had been his desk lamp, and it was casting shadows across Viktor’s face, his silver bangs brushed back between his fingers, suddenly thoughtful.

 

“Are you sure you want to know, Yuuri?”

 

The question startled Yuuri, and he felt his initial panic quell to contemplation.  It might hurt Yuuri’s feelings, hearing about all of Viktor’s past partners.  It wasn’t a secret that Viktor was a playboy.  Yuuri had fought so hard to keep him here as a coach, that he hadn’t considered…

 

What if he had been so desperate to keep him here because there was something else bubbling below the surface?

 

Would hearing about Viktor’s past partners hurt him?  What if they were only women, and cemented the idea that Viktor was straight?  Sometimes not knowing keeps hope alive.

 

However, he knew that he couldn’t talk about himself until he knew what he was being compared to.

 

“Yes.”

 

Viktor nodded, suddenly very animated.  He sat up eagerly, pulling Makka into his lap, who lazily allowed it as soon as Viktor set to scratching her belly.

 

Yuuri knew he had made a mistake once Victor licked his lips and fixed the younger man with a playful grin.

 

“Let’s see, I lost my virginity when I was nineteen to Chris.”

 

The pressure building up in Yuuri’s mind released with a pop.

 

“We fooled around but were never really an item.  Then right before my twentieth birthday I started dating this lovely ice dancer named Sasha, but we only went out for a few months and quickly realized that we weren’t emotionally compatible.  She was a cat person,” Viktor waved the thought off as if it were all the explanation needed, then pressed his index finger to his mouth, thinking.  “We went at it like bunnies, though.”

 

Viktor winked at that.

 

The sudden image Yuuri had in his mind had him fumbling to pull a pillow into his lap, which he leaned on in a guise of exhaustion.  

 

“Then I went a whole year without anyone, until I started seeing Damien, who was in an open relationship with his husband.  They were lovely people.  Their daughter was the cutest thing on the face of this earth.  However, eventually I realized I wanted more, and parted with him amicably after a year and a half.  Then there was Stephan, who I saw for a few months when I was twenty three.  He was extremely possessive which stopped being cute after the honeymoon phase ended.”

 

Viktor got quiet for a moment, his eyes losing their sparkle.  Yuuri shifted uncomfortably, and Makka nosed at Viktor’s hand pointedly, because it had stilled.

 

Then, as quickly as he stopped, his tone perked back up.

 

“Elena was next.  We were close friends and bored one day so the idea just seemed to make sense.  We were physical for over two years, and saw other people in that time.  I bedded more than a few of her friends and she did more than a few of mine.  There was one crazy night with an orgy- that’s a story for another time, though.”

 

Yuuri was sure that his blush must have spread down to his toes.

 

“Then I was physical with Chris again until last year when him and his boyfriend started seeing each other.  So, I think I ended up having about eleven partners?”

 

Yuuri tried really hard to look passive as his mind whispered _to be expected from the legendary Viktor Nikiforov…_

 

The room was quiet for a few minutes while Yuuri held his breath, hoping that Viktor had forgotten his question altogether.

 

Finally, Viktor whined, “Yuuuuuuri it’s your tuuuuurn,” annunciating the u’s in the way that Yuuri loved.

 

“I… I um…” Yuuri stammered, searching back in his mind for any way out of this.

 

Viktor was on his knees suddenly, his head level with Yuuri’s pillow, face pouting perfectly.

 

Yuuri was a sucker for Viktor’s pout.  He couldn’t deny his idol this.

 

“I, um, well, there was this one guy in college, Matt, we were friends and um, we had sex-” Yuuri gulped at the word as Viktor nodded in encouragement, “-he was really nice and we did it a few times but after we stopped I hooked up with a few people but it never progressed to sex ever so, I’ve had one partner?”

 

It finished off like a question, and Viktor clucked his tongue.  “That’s nothing to be ashamed of Yuuri!”

 

There was something in Viktor’s expression that changed, that Yuuri couldn’t place, but Viktor continued on for the rest of the night, talking about past skating routines and grating on and on about all of his favorite new Japanese food, asking Yuuri for the correct pronunciations, which Yuuri grumbled through his pillow as he tried to sleep through most of the prattling.

 

He stood on the beach, stretching, wondering why Viktor had inquired in the first place if he was just going to abruptly change the subject.

 

Was Viktor disappointed?  Mad?  Happy?  Underwhelmed?  All the possibilities whirred around in Yuuri’s head long after Viktor fell asleep, a broken top, and finally he’d seen dawn illuminate his bed frame and carefully stepped past Viktor to go on a morning jog without him.

 

They had planned to take the day off from training.  After the Hot Springs on Ice extravaganza Viktor wanted Yuuri to focus on content for his free skate, which meant he had a lot of free time to panic about not knowing what he wanted to do.

 

When the famous Viktor Nikiforov had shown up, Yuuri had been flabbergasted at first.  Once he moved past that into acceptance, he waited eagerly to see what he had choreographed, because Yuuri had spent his whole life studying that man’s choreography, and to have two programs that were designed for him would be his teenage wet dream.

 

However, Viktor wouldn’t touch the free program until Yuuri came up with music of his own.

 

The thought had Yuuri’s anxiety spiraling into overdrive.  His skin, even now, felt itchy and too tight, and he wanted to scratch himself out of it, or go home and dig through the refrigerator until he found some food that would temporarily distract him from the stress.

 

Yuuri found himself laughing darkly.   _If only Viktor could see me now_ he started running again, mind swirling with the dark thoughts, _he wouldn’t know what to do with a mess like me.  He’d pack up and go straight back to Russia.  He’d find Yuri and tell him that it’d all been a huge mistake.  Yuri deserves him more than me._

 

With all the spinning thoughts, he hadn’t realized that he had gotten back to the onsen until he almost tripped over Makkachin, who was bounding towards him while he wasn’t looking.

 

“Bad Makka,” Viktor said without any real force, kneeling over and opening his arms for the dog.  He was in his training outfit, looking at Yuuri with a frown.  “I thought we were going to run together.”

 

Yuuri avoided his eyes, those perfect blue orbs the picture of innocent sadness.  

 

“I couldn’t sleep,” he responded, popping out his earbuds and pushing past him towards the front door.

 

Viktor trailed after him hesitantly, like he wasn’t quite sure what else to do with himself.  “Yuuri, want to get breakfast out in town?  I heard they make really fluffy pancakes at that place by the train station…”

 

Yuuri thought about the pancakes, and how once he started eating them he knew he wouldn’t stop.  “No, thank you.  I’m not hungry.”

 

In protest, his stomach rumbled, and Viktor looked doubtful.  “Yuuuuri, we were going to take the day off to work on your free program.  How do you expect to do that if you won’t spend time with me?”

 

Yuuri couldn’t help but meet his eyes then, seeing Viktor’s searching, hopeful look.  It made him cringe.

 

“I’ll take care of it myself,” he said, and couldn’t help the chill that settled over them at the words.  Viktor even took a step back, stunned.  

 

“I’ll go help Mari in the laundry room, then.  Come get me if you need me, da?”  

 

When a lightbulb flashes on a camera, afterward the absence of light is so noticeable because of how it had previously been so bright.  That was Viktor’s face, devoid of all affection as he walked dutifully away.

 

The guilt seized him in a vice-like grip.  Here was his hero, going out of his way to come find Yuuri and teach him, and Yuuri didn’t even want to be near him.

 

_Stupid, stupid…_

 

He made his way to the kitchens without thinking, still sticky from his run, the sweat cooling on his skin and making the whole world feel chillier around him.  Or, maybe that was because he felt so lost.

 

_I’m sorry Viktor, I’m not who you thought I was…_

 

No one was there.  His mother would have finished preparing breakfast twenty minutes ago and put out the serving dishes in the dining room.  The smell of fresh pastries still hovered in the air, and Yuuri’s stomach turned, wanting to inhale them.

 

_No you just lost all that weight you need to keep it off._

 

His fingers reached out, brushing against the counter and the cold metal surface, running his fingertips over it until he reached the cabinet that his parents kept all of the utensils in.

 

Yuuri’s mind was moving on one track, without conscious thought or reason as he clutched the steak knife, biting his lip.  He wanted to make the bad thoughts go away.  This had worked in the past, whenever his anxiety got to be too much.  Phichit had made him promise to stop, but Phichit wasn’t here…

 

_I’m sorry Phichit…_

 

***

 

Later that night in his room, he was fiddling with his laptop, trying to figure out the song.  Finally, he gave in.  His anxiety, which had been running wild before he pressed the knife to his skin,  was starting to come back, and he needed his friend.

 

He facetimed Phichit before he could back out of the idea

 

They talked for a while about his music, and at the end of it Phichit had narrowed his eyes at Yuuri pointedly.

 

“ _What’s really bothering you, Yuuri?”_ ”

 

Yuuri bit his lip, thinking back to pushing Viktor away earlier, about feeling like a disappointment.  “I… I think Viktor is going to leave.”

 

_“What?  That’s ridiculous.  A guy doesn’t drop his whole life for you and then leave after only a few weeks of work.”_

 

“I’m… I’m not living up to his expectations, Phich.  I’m just waiting for him to figure it out.”

 

The words deflated him, finally saying them out loud.  Phichit, who was getting a barrage of curses from Celestino for not coming back to the ice, hissed.

 

_“It’s bad again, isn’t it?”_

 

Yuuri nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

 

_“Yuuri, listen before Celestino rips my head off.  Viktor is not going to leave.  This will work itself out, but you need to talk to Viktor.”_

 

Yuuri nodded, feeling empty having put everything out on the table.

 

_“It’ll be okay.  Let’s talk tomorrow, yeah?”_

 

Yuuri nodded again robotically, still feeling anxious.

 

_If you talk to Viktor he’ll see all your insecurities.  You can’t tell him.  He’ll see that you’re weak._

 

Yuuri laid in his bed, heavy with fear, ignoring Viktor’s cheerful calls from outside his door that he wanted to have another sleepover.

 

All he wanted was for Victor to assuage his fears and hold him close, but Viktor getting too close was also the source of them. 

 

It was a miserable dichotomy.  


	2. Silver Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri deals with the consequences of avoiding Viktor as the two spend a fun day at the beach. Then they go to practice and Yuuri does something impulsive that he both enjoys and panics about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the next chapter. I have no idea how long this fic will be. I've written about 4-5 chapters worth so far and will stop when the story feels complete. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter deals with a serious panic attack as well as anxiety and dissociation. If at any point this chapter makes you feel some type of way, take some time to love yourself. Eat some chocolate. Listen to your favorite song. Reach out to a loved one. Hell, do all of this even if you aren't reacting badly. Treat yo'self.
> 
> There will be some smutty stuff later on in the fic which is why the tag is there. Stay tuned!
> 
> I don't own Yuri! on Ice as much as I wish I did.

 

The next morning, as Yuuri rolled over and over trying to stay asleep, Viktor threw the door open without even bothering to knock.

 

“Let’s go to the beach!”

 

Viktor’s heart shaped mouth was open in excitement, and it was such a surprise that Yuuri couldn’t say anything other than, “S-sure.”

 

Hiroko fussed over them, handing them a little picnic basket.  “You should go swimming afterwards!  Oh, and bring Makkachin!  She’s been cooped up in this inn for too long…”

 

Somehow, despite Yuuri being adamantly against leaving his room today, he was walking down to the beach with Viktor, who was leading Makkachin and being unusually quiet.

 

They silently made their way through the town, waving hello to whoever they passed.  Yuuri was immensely surprised at how many people Viktor seemed to know after only a few weeks.  He enthusiastically waved and said hello in poor and choppy Japanese, but no one seemed perturbed by this.  If anything, they all seemed to find it charming.

 

While Yuuri wasn’t looking, Viktor had started making a home here.

 

The feeling settled in the bottom of his stomach, and he realized that he was pleased.

 

The weight that had been pressing down on him lightened infinitesimally.

 

When they got to the beach, it was still chilly, and they kept on their sweatshirts and sweatpants and left their picnic basket and towels by the entrance.  Viktor laughed as Makkachin started bounding from rock to rock, and cooed at her, jumping after her like a child, looking back at Yuuri with the blinding happiness of the sun.

 

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile back.

 

_I’ve got it bad_

 

They settled onto one of the rocks, and Yuuri found himself explaining why he’d been avoiding Viktor.  Internally he was screaming, but the word vomit wouldn’t stop, bringing up when a girl had tried to comfort him a few years ago, and how he had pushed her away.

 

Viktor looked over the ocean, pensive, his fingers absentmindedly running through Makkachin’s fur.  His silver hair fell in his eyes, and Yuuri was having a hard time deciphering exactly what emotion was stirring there.

 

“What do you want me to be to you?  A father figure?  A brother, or a friend?”

 

Yuuri found himself shaking his head, getting flustered.  No, he didn’t need another loving family member…

 

“Your lover, then.  I’ll do my best.”  

 

Yuuri shot three feet in the air, and missed the comical sparkle in Viktor’s eye as he thought wildly that he didn’t want another loving family member, didn’t need a boyfriend, he just needed Viktor to be… Viktor.

 

For the first time since they met, Viktor looked speechless.

 

“Myself,” he muttered softly after a few minutes, lips pursed and eyes distant.  Yuuri’s nerves returned suddenly, before he nodded.  “Myself, then.”

 

Yuuri wasn’t sure whether he meant to say that out loud, but suddenly the cloud of worry that had been hovering over Yuuri dissipated, and he gushed, “want to go swimming?”

 

Blinking a few times, Yuuri saw the excitement in the Russian’s eyes, and he had leaned towards Yuuri, invading his personal space just enough to leave Yuuri breathless and his skin tingling.

 

Before he knew it, Viktor was wiggling out of his clothes, throwing them to their towels.  Yuuri couldn’t help but gape at him, even though he saw him naked all the time, and laughed as Viktor walked towards him, tugging at his shirt.  

 

“Swim with me, Yuuri!”

 

It was irresistible.  Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh, taking off his shirt and hopping out of his pants awkwardly.  Viktor didn’t seem to mind, grabbing him by the hands and yanking him towards the water.

 

It was the most fun Yuuri had in, well, he couldn’t remember.  Viktor splashed him, tickled him, and they made dramatic shows of going over or under the waves coming towards them.  Eventually the cold water drove them out, but they were still laughing.

 

Yuuri and Viktor were showering the salt water off when he realized that Viktor was leaning over, and quietly picked up a handful of sand and, without warning, smushed it into Viktor’s hair.

 

He yelped, diving for the sand and grabbing some himself, and Yuuri didn’t have time to react either as a cold heap of sand fell into his hair.

 

Somehow that transitioned to them washing each other’s hair, and as they wandered back towards the onsen, Yuuri felt lighter than he had in days.

 

Viktor was listening with rapt attention as Yuuri described the rink back in America.

 

“Yeah, and Phichit and I roomed together all through college.  He’s going to finish up online, I think.”

 

“Were you close with anyone else there?”

 

Yuuri was now leading Makkachin, who was bounding ahead of them, sniffing her way back home.  “We all spent a lot of time together, but I think Phichit was my closest friend there.”

 

“And Celestino?”  


“He was… strict.  He was more like a guardian than a coach sometimes.  He didn’t push me.  I think he was worried that I’d break.”

 

Viktor nodded, listening intently.

 

“Not like you.  You push me to be better.  I… I know you haven’t been here that long, but I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

 

The sentence had creeped up from the darkest corners of his mind, the insecurity that had been slowly eating him alive for the last two days, turning all the fun they had had on it’s head really quickly.

 

“I’m not going to stop pushing you.  You are amazing, Yuuri.  I just need you to see that.”

 

The fear evaporated into a rushing stream of affection as Viktor smiled at Yuuri.

 

_That smile could light up the sky during a hurricane._

 

_That smile can light up my heart even through the anxiety storming around._

 

They parted at Yuuri’s room so that he could go shower, and when he got to his computer he saw that he had a new message.  

 

She had emailed him back.

  

 

***

 

The next morning, Yuuri felt like he was waking up from a really bad dream.

 

Viktor and him had breakfast and then went off to Ice Castle, the early morning chill hanging on them like a calming wave.  Yuuri couldn’t remember where his fears had come from.  They were allayed with each time Viktor waved at the townspeople, with every poorly uttered Japanese word.

 

Once they started on the ice, Viktor had him running jumps.

 

“With that day off you should have plenty of energy!”

 

Yuuri was about ready to murder him by his third try at a quad sal.  

 

“Your balance is off,” Viktor said for the third time, tapping his finger against his chin thoughtfully.  Yuuri’s fingers were twitching.  

 

“What does that even mean?”

 

Viktor skating towards him, and without warning gently placed his hands on his hips.  Yuuri stiffened, but tried to focus on the pressure there.  

 

“You aren’t even in your hips when you come down.  It’s making you off balance.  Here,” his voice lowered, and Yuuri could almost feel Viktor’s chest against his back with the warmth radiating off of him.  His hands were putting pressure on his hips, trying to show him which direction he should be leaning, but Yuuri’s mind was too busy short circuiting.

 

“You got that?”

 

Blinking, Yuuri nodded, still having no idea what he was talking about.

 

When he went up for the jump, though, he remembered those hands splaying across his hips, creating delicious warmth in his gut…

 

He landed the jump.

 

Viktor skated up to him, cheering.  “See!  That was perfect, Yuuri,” he folded Yuuri into a tight hug, and the younger man melted into the embrace.  It was so strong and safe and _Viktor._ He went boneless, leaning against Viktor, feeling pride well in his chest.

 

_I can do this.  I’m better, and Viktor will keep working with me until I’m perfect.  Maybe… maybe I actually can win._

 

For just a moment, he saw what Viktor saw.  Himself on the top of the podium, smiling with a gold medal, Viktor pulling him down off the podium into a crushing kiss…

 

Yuuri shook his head to clear it as Viktor pulled away from Yuuri a little, just enough to make eye contact with him.  He looked… Yuuri’s eyes widened at how vulnerable he looked all of a sudden, his soft pink lips slightly parted, his wide blue eyes searching, trying to find…

 

It happened in a blink.  Yuuri couldn’t help himself.  He licked his lips unthinkingly and then pressed them up to Viktor’s, a chaste kiss.

 

Viktor gasped, pulling back suddenly, pressing a finger to his lips.

 

The world stopped.   _No, no, I messed up, he didn’t want…_

 

Then Viktor dove back in, crushing Yuuri in a searing kiss.  Yuuri opened his mouth to him automatically, like he’d opened every other part of his life, because it was Viktor.  It was Viktor, the man he’d loved longer than he’d even known he was gay.  It was Viktor, the man who’d flown across the world on a whim and had so much passion for everything he did.

 

A wolf whistle broke them apart.

 

Even though they pulled away, Viktor’s hands snaked around Yuuri’s middle, keeping him close to him as they turned to see Takeshi giving them a thumbs up.

 

Mortified, Yuuri couldn’t even think of something to say, but Viktor chuckled, brushing a kiss on his temple.  “Later then, da?”  


The tension in his body faded almost as quickly as it had come.  It was Takeshi, anyway.  Takeshi was one of Yuuri’s oldest friends.  It wasn’t a secret that he wanted Viktor.

 

_Now Viktor might want me back…_

 

As Viktor withdrew his embrace, Yuuri felt it hit him like a truck.

 

_Viktor just kissed me._

 

_Wait… what does he mean later?  Does he want… what if he wants… I’m not ready.  I can’t, I won’t be good enough, I haven’t had enough sex, I don’t know what I’m doing…_

 

His mind was buzzing with nerves as he ran Eros one more time.  Viktor made quite a few comments about the technique, but Yuuri wasn’t even sure exactly what he said.

 

The run home was quiet.

 

When they got back to the inn, Viktor suggested that they go to the baths, but Yuuri declined, almost tripping over himself to get to his room…

 

The panic attack ripped out of him as soon as he was alone.

 

His fingers were tingling, breath hitching in his chest, as he tried to run through his usual coping skill, by finding five things he could see, four things he could hear, three things he could touch…

 

Slowly, the panic started to subside, and Yuuri’s tunnel vision faded to find himself seated on the floor in fetal position.

 

Shakily, he moved to the bed, clutching his pillow to ground himself.  The air was still thick like syrup, but he managed to keep himself from losing control of it again.

 

Minutes or hours later, a gentle knock at the door sounded.

 

“Yuuuuuuuri, come on out.  Your mother wants to play family games!”

 

Yuuri couldn’t find his voice.  He squeaked out some sound before all his breath was punched out of him again.

 

The door flew open, and Viktor’s eyes blew wide, taking in the younger skater, still in his outfit from training, holding onto his pillow, tears silently flowing down his cheeks and chest heaving in panic.

 

_No no no he can’t see me like this…_

 

Viktor seemed to get a hold of himself all at once.  At some point he’d showered and changed to lounge pants and a t-shirt, and he close the door, padding quietly towards the bed.

 

Yuuri shrunk further into himself, pressing his face into the pillow, trying to hide.

 

“No, _solnishko_ , let me see.”

 

Breath was still punching out of Yuuri’s chest as he felt, suddenly, Viktor settle in behind him, gently weaving his arms and legs around Yuuri, then leveraging him up so that he was sitting, cross legged with Viktor tucked in behind him, the Russian’s cold hands running over Yuuri’s arms soothingly, and when the rushing in Yuuri’s ears quieted, he realized that Viktor was singing.

 

Then he realized that the back of his t-shirt was wet.

 

His breath was still gasping, but he no longer felt like he was dying.  Hoarsely, he whispered, “Viktor, are you… crying?”

 

“I’m sorry, I should be comforting you right now, but seeing you like that…” he trailed off, and Viktor’s arms snaked around Yuuri’s middle, crushing him in a hug from behind as Viktor pressed his face into the space between Yuuri’s shoulder blades.  “I had no idea.”

 

Yuuri gulped, not sure how to even continue.  “I… I don’t tell people when it gets bad,” his voice was still scratchy.  “It feels like an inconvenience…”

 

Viktor cursed in what sounded like French.  “Don’t you dare do that to me again.  You tell me.  You come straight to me.  Do you understand?”  


The command was so unlike Viktor that Yuuri couldn’t help but whisper, “Yes.”

 

After a moment, Yuuri leaned back into the embrace, and Viktor’s breath caught, falling back against the wall behind him, pulling Yuuri back with him.  Automatically, the younger man curled up into Viktor’s lap.  He turned to his side and balled his hand in Viktor’s shirt, trying to hold himself in the moment.

 

“What can I do?”  Viktor’s voice was hesitant.

 

Yuuri sighed, closing his eyes.  “There’s nothing you can do.  Just… stay with me.”

 

Viktor’s voice was resolute.  “I can do that.”

 

The Russian’s hands started combing through Yuuri’s hair absently as he tried his best to focus on the touches and the sensations over his mountain anxieties, over the crushing weight bearing down on his chest.

 

At some point, the door to the room opened, but Yuuri didn’t move.  Viktor started talking quietly, and then he was being offered water.  He shook his head, realizing on some level that he had dissociated and disconnected from the world around him, but none of that seemed as pressing as keeping himself together.

 

After a while, his lower back started to cramp, and he moved to sit up, but Viktor’s arms tightened around him.

 

“Viktor,” he whispered, but the arms only continued to hold him tightly.

 

“Are you with me again, _solnishko_?”

 

“I think so.”

 

His arms loosened at Yuuri’s voice, and Yuuri was able to sit up and stretch a little bit, easing out of the awkward position.  

 

For a few moments, it was silent as Yuuri climbed off the bed and started stretching again.

 

“How long, Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri wouldn’t look up.  “Since we got back from practice.”

 

“That’s three hours, Yuuri,” his voice was pitched, and Yuuri tried not to wince.

 

They went a few more minutes before Viktor asked, “Was it me?”

 

_Yes._

 

“No,” Yuuri said it firmly, and he finally looked up, forcing himself to make eye contact with Viktor, whose eyes were red-rimmed and exhausted.  “I’ve had anxiety my whole life.  This is just how some days are.”

 

Viktor reached out suddenly, coming up on his knees on the bed.  “Has this happened any other time since I got here?”

 

“I mean, you saw me before the Hot Springs on Ice exhibition,” Yuuri thought back to the crushing fear that had almost prevented him from performing.

 

“I thought it was just performance anxiety.”

 

Viktor’s hands had found Yuuri’s face, and Yuuri realized that tears were still drying on his cheeks.  The Russian's thumbs rubbed the salty lines away, and he tenderly kissed Yuuri’s forehead.

 

They sat there like that for a few moments, silent, before Yuuri asked, “Viktor?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“What does _solnishko_ mean?”

 

Viktor looked stunned, but then a watery smile split his face.  “It means sun.  You are my sunlight, Yuuri.  When you’re sad it’s a rainstorm.”

 

Yuuri sighed, taking one of Viktor’s hands in his own.

 

“What happens now?”

 

Viktor cocked his head to the side.  “What do you mean…”

 

Tears started rolling down Yuuri’s cheeks again, and he hated how weak and helpless he felt, hated showing this side of himself.  “Well, you’re leaving, right?  You know now, that I’m a mess.  This is why I can’t do better…”

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor cut him off, and Yuuri was stunned to see that Viktor was shaking.  “I’m not giving up on you.  Don’t you dare ever say something like that again.”

 

Yuuri nodded.  “Okay.”

 

Yuuri gently crawled back into the bed, and Viktor laid down, folding Yuuri against his chest, holding him there.  They laid like that until the two of them fell asleep, tangled in each other’s arms.


	3. Silver Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri deals with the fallout of his panic attack and wakes up to quite the surprise in the morning. Later, Viktor helps him perfect his qual sal and explores some new boundaries with his student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys order some smut? Cuz here's some smut.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: explicit discussions of sexual boundaries, as well as self harm and anxiety. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, take some time to yourself. Wear the sweatshirt that swallows you. Find some ice cream. Give yourself a massage. Reach out to a loved one.
> 
> This fic is looking to have a few chapters for now, and I'll probably update it one to two times a week. I'm guesstimating it having twenty chapters? I'm not sure. 
> 
> If you like it please feel free to comment your thoughts! I love feedback especially since I've never done fic writing before
> 
> I don't own Yuri! on Ice, no matter how much I want to

Yuuri was having a really good dream when he woke up and felt something hard against his leg.

 

Then a warm breath tickled the hair on the back of his neck and he felt himself start to react to how close the Russian was, stiffening more as the man behind him shifted so that his hardness was unbelievably close to his ass…

 

Yuuri’s breathing quickened.  He simultaneously wanted to jump off the bed and grind back into the attention.

 

_It’s just morning wood.  Get your shit together._

 

“Viktor,” Yuuri whispered, his hand brushing against the arm Viktor had slung over Yuuri in the night.

 

“Hmmm,” he came to and pressed a kiss gently against Yuuri’s neck.  “How are you feeling this morning?”

 

“Um, better, but…”

 

Viktor went stock still suddenly, and rolled over quickly.  “I, ah, I’ll go take a shower.  Meet you downstairs for breakfast?”

 

Yuuri nodded before Viktor brushed his lips against his cheek, jumping out of bed and shuffling out of the room.

 

Yuuri couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of Viktor against him, couldn’t stop imagining what it would have felt like if the man had started moving…

 

Viktor was probably in the shower, doing the same thing, which only got Yuuri more riled up.

 

He reached his hand down his pants and jerked off desperately fast, looking for a gasping, quick release to take the edge off.  He came whispering Viktor’s name and imagining what the Russian was doing only a few rooms away.

  


***

 

When Yuuri stepped out of the shower, he cursed suddenly, flying to his phone, which had fallen under the bed in his panic the day before.

 

There were over thirty texts from Phichit and five missed calls.

 

Yuuri scrolled to the last few and cringed.

 

_P: Yuuri, I’m calling your parents.  If you’re hurting yourself I’ll never forgive you…_

 

_P: Celestino gave me your mother’s number_

 

_P: Your mother had informed me that you can’t be reached because you are ASLEEP IN THE BED WITH VIKTOR TELL ME EVERYTHING_

 

_P: ANSWER ME DAMNIT_

 

_P: TELL ME YOU WERE AT LEAST SAFE_

 

Yuuri gaped at the phone, wondering at what point his mother had peeked her head inside to see them curled up together on his tiny twin bed…

 

Mortified, he got dressed, shooting a quick text back.

 

_Y: Sorry for worrying you.  I had a bad day yesterday.  Viktor was comforting me, nothing happened._

 

He thought about it again, and realized with all the worrying he should at least throw Phichit a bone.

 

_Y: There was kissing though.  Lots of kisses_

 

He could feel the vibrations going off in his pocket, but he ignored them for now, walking towards the smell of food drifting from the kitchen.

 

Viktor and his mother were at the stove, moving around each other like a well oiled machine, and when Yuuri walked in they both stopped what they were doing and waved.  

 

“Yuuri, your mother is teaching me how to make the fluffy pancakes!”

 

His smile was so wide that Yuuri’s heart melted a little bit.

 

He sat at the counter and watched them work, throwing short phrases back and forth in a combination of English and Japanese and sometimes just gestures.  When Hiroko gushed over the finished product of Victor’s towering stack of pancakes, Viktor pressed a kiss to her cheek, and she blushed.  

 

“Yuuri, I’ve decided that I get to keep your mother in the divorce.”

 

The term was thrown out so easily, that Yuuri barely skipped a beat.  “You don’t get to keep my mother, Viktor.”

 

Hiriko had moved back to the dining room to help with the customers, and Viktor pushed a stack of two of the jiggling pancakes in front of Yuuri.

 

“These are for my hot boyfriend.  You wouldn’t have seen him around here, would you?”

 

Yuuri reacted to the term “boyfriend” by turning bright pink.  “I, uh…”

 

Viktor laughed suddenly, kissing Yuuri’s cheeks, flooded with color.  “No pressure, Yuuri.  I was just teasing you.”

 

Yuuri nodded, dazed, before Viktor grabbed his own plate and sat down at the counter with Yuuri, taking a bite and yelling, “Vkusno!” before putting his fork and knife down pointedly.

 

“How are you doing, though?”

 

Yuuri had taken a bite of his own pancakes, and couldn’t help but smile at the taste, reminding him of lazy Saturday mornings as a kid.  “This is delicious.”

 

Viktor beamed.  “Thanks, it was mostly Hiroko though…” he blinked, frowning suddenly.  “Your sister told me you deflect.  I didn’t realize how good at it you were.  How… how often do you do that?”

 

Yuuri couldn’t look at him.  The anxiety that had been quiet all morning was starting to buzz under his skin and swirl in his stomach.

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor’s gentle voice shocked the younger man into looking into his sad face.  “Stay here with me, now, da?”

 

Yuuri was dazed, feeling the anxiety only slightly abate at Viktor’s words.   _I can see the pancakes, Viktor, the stove, mom…_

 

Once he felt himself get a hold of himself, he continued, “So, practice today…”

 

“I had it pushed back a little.  Yuuko was very understanding.  The hockey league had cancelled anyway.”

 

Yuuri was relieved, worried that Viktor would go overboard and cancel practice.  He needed the ice more than ever if he was going to get past this.  Skating was always an outlet for him in his darkest moments.

 

They finished breakfast with some small talk, but Yuuri was mostly already running Eros through his head, with each step sequence and jump, trying to find something to hold onto.

  


***

  
  


Yuuri finished his thousandth run through of Eros before Viktor called it a night.

 

He secretly wondered whether Viktor knew that the ice was his refuge right now, and that was why he was being so strict, but didn’t want to ask him.  He would just let it be.

 

When Yuuri skated off the ice, Viktor followed him and tugged on his sleeve, gently wrapping him into a hug.

 

Yuuri let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and chuckled.  “Feeling clingy, coach?”

 

“Is that a bad thing?”  Viktor’s sultry voice whispered into Yuuri’s ear, and Yuuri couldn’t help but gasp at the way it made his skin tingle.

 

“Uh… no,” the younger man decided, letting his fingers travel over the expanse of Viktor’s back, listening to Viktor’s breathing start to hitch.  

 

“We should head back,” Viktor said mournfully, pulling back and pressing a chaste kiss to Yuuri’s lips.  The Japanese man smiled, and he even found the courage to lace his fingers with Viktor’s.  The Russian started, but beamed back at Yuuri, like he was the luckiest man in the world.

 

They changed out of their skates and headed to the onsen.  Once they were out of ice castle they let their hands drop, knowing that public displays of affection, regardless of the genders of those partaking, were frowned upon here.

 

The wind whispered in the trees above them as they walked back, Viktor telling Yuuri the story of meeting Chris’ boyfriend for the first time.

 

“You have to understand that Chris usually dates these wild types.  Pink mohawk, piercings in places I didn’t even know could be pierced, and he walks in with this totally ordinary looking, if very attractive, man and I thought it was just someone that happened to follow him in.  Then they sat down, and he introducing Henrick, and I couldn’t pick my jaw off the floor.”

 

Yuuri was laughing, and couldn’t help but love the way that Viktor used his whole body to tell stories, waving around with his hands, angling his body to indicate direction, changing speeds of his walking in time with the speed of his recounting.

 

It was the little things that Yuuri had started to love about Viktor.  His perfect image of his idol was being peeled back, layer by layer, and replaced by a very real man, who sometimes talks with his mouth full, who sucks a pep talks, who feels everything so fully and dramatically that it’s hard to look away.

 

“What did you do then?” Yuuri asked.

 

“I asked him a thousand questions.  Where does he work?  He was a lawyer.  How did they meet?  At a coffee shop, no less. They both ordered the same thing and talked for three hours before agreeing to meet up again.  Henrick was unbelievably normal and smart and well off.  Once he left I made sure to tell Chris to marry him immediately, before he changes his mind.”

 

“Viktor!” Yuuri squealed, unable to control his barking laughter.  Someone who was watering their plants waved at the two of them, and Viktor waved back, but Yuuri was barely catching his breath.  “You’re terrible.”

 

“I’m a fantastic friend,” the Russian scoffed, looking mock offended.  They had made it back to the onsen at that point, and once they were in the door and past the guest areas to the Katsuki’s quarters Viktor’s hand sought Yuuri’s, pulling him in for another kiss.

 

Yuuri allowed it, letting Viktor press kiss after kiss to his lips, until finally he requested access to his mouth by sliding his tongue over the seam of his lips.

 

A shiver ran through Yuuri as he allowed it, and it was like a switch had flipped; the moment that Viktor slipped his tongue in, Yuuri was ravenous.

 

In seconds he had pinned Viktor against the hallway wall, licking into his mouth with a whine, pressing his chest against Viktor’s.  The older man groaned, fists tightening on the front of Yuuri’s shirt, and they stayed like that for a few minutes before Yuuri pulled back.

 

“We should move…”

 

Viktor nodded, dazed, and pulled him into his bedroom, sliding the door shut and guiding Yuuri back to the bed slowly, taking time to press soft, chaste kisses to his lips and cheeks as he did so.

 

Once Yuuri had almost hit the mattress, Viktor turned them so that he plopped into a sitting position on the end of the bed, looking up at Yuuri through silver lashes.

 

“Where are our boundaries tonight, Yuuri?”

 

The question made Yuuri warm all over.  His concerns from the day before about Viktor pressuring him evaporated into thin air like a heavy fog at morning light.  Yuuri took a moment to run his fingers along Viktor’s pale and strong jawline, trying to memorize the shape of his face.

 

“I don’t think I’m ready for sex tonight.”

 

Viktor nodded, hands seeking out Yuuri’s. “Be explicit, _solnishko._  Don’t be embarrassed.”

 

Yuuri bit his lip, starting to get excited thinking about all of the things they could do.  “We can… see each other.  And… use hands, but not mouths yet.  Is that… okay?”

 

Viktor’s cheeks had become a little pink at the words, pupils starting to dilate. “Y-yeah,” he said softly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against Yuuri’s belly.  “Let me see you then, Yuuri.”

 

Shaking a little, Yuuri’s fingers sought the bottom of his shirt, and he brought the fabric over his head.  Viktor smiled, attacking the expanse of skin, placing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses over the site.  “You’re beautiful, darling.  Every inch of you.”

 

Tears threatened to form in Yuuri’s eyes, and he blinked a few times to clear them, fingers seeking out purchase on Viktor’s shirt.  The Russian got the idea and flung it off, and Yuuri marveled again at the flat expanse of his chest, fingers brushing against his sides.  Viktor spasmed a little as he passed there, and Yuuri made a mental note that he must be ticklish.

 

This was going to be fun.

 

His fingers grazed Viktor’s nipples next, and the Russian gasped, hands falling on Yuuri’s stomach, splaying over the skin there.  

 

Yuuri took the initiative and crawled into Viktor’s lap as the older man scooted back onto the bed, so that Yuuri’s legs were bracketing Viktor’s hips.  Yuuri’s fingers tilted Viktor’s chin up for a kiss, and Yuuri closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of the man underneath him.

 

They made out for a while, exploring each other’s chests, seeking out where the other was sensitive, memorizing the shape of the other.  Yuuri would never get enough of learning Viktor’s body.  He could imagine spending every day for the rest of his life doing it.

 

Then, his fingers trailed lower and found that the Russian had responded very positively to the touching.

 

“Oh, Viktor, do you like me touching you?”

 

“Obviously,” Viktor growled, trying to claim Yuuri’s mouth again, but Yuuri placed a finger against his lips, shaking his head.  

 

Yuuri’s fingers snapped at the band of Viktor’s exercise pants.  “Off.”

 

The older man looked a little shocked at the order, but then recovered quickly and fell back against the bed, hitching up his hips to pull down the pants.  Once they were halfway down Yuuri took care of them the rest of the way, and Viktor smirked.

 

“Anxious, are we…”

 

But Yuuri was already pulling down Viktor’s boxers and had taken the Russian’s cock in hand, making the Russian fall back against the bed in ecstasy.

 

“Fuck,” he gasped, and Yuuri straddled Viktor’s lap, not knowing where all the confidence came from but liking this new side of himself.

 

That wasn’t true, per se.  Yuuri knew that he like to be in control from past experiences.  Maybe it was specifically seeing Viktor splayed under him, his alabaster cock flushed in Yuuri’s tanned hands, blush blooming across his chest, that made it so special.  

 

Yuuri started a very unhurried pace, but Viktor quickly leaned forward to claim Yuuri’s mouth with his own, muttering, “You too.”

 

Yuuri obliged, kicking his own sweats off and taking Viktors hand to knead at his growing erection together.  Viktor didn’t break the kiss as he thrust his hand down Yuuri’s pants, pulling them down so that they were tangled together horizontally across the bed, and they set a leisurely pace on each other, curling into each other’s touches.  They were wound together and breathing each other’s air, stimulation sending Yuuri’s mind into overdrive, just wanting to feel Viktor’s hand on him, to feel Viktor feel good...

 

Their foreheads were rested together, sweat beading as they worked.  Yuuri’s hips started to thrust erratically, and Viktor followed suit, and it was almost like they were fucking, so close that Yuuri couldn’t help but imagine that Viktor’s warm hand was really his hole, stretching for him.

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor gasped, breath catching before he moaned, spilling all over Yuuri’s hand.  The sound of Yuuri’s name in Viktor’s mouth did it for Yuuri, sending him over the edge a minute later.

 

They gasped, staying close together for a few moments, before Viktor lifted his hand, covered in their releases, between them, and Yuuri leaned forward, possessed, and started licking his fingers.

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor hissed as the Japanese man worked, sliding his tongue along the length of the Russian man's long, piano player fingers, bobbing his head to take the whole finger between his lips, swirling his tongue in the space between the digits.  He could feel Vikor start to get excited again against his thigh, and suddenly Viktor flipped them so that he was on top, surveying Yuuri from above.

 

Yuuri’s breath caught at the wrecked man above him, his hair falling in sweaty locks against his forehead, eyes bright with satisfaction.  Viktor’s finger slipped underneath Yuuri’s briefs and snapped the elastic, whispering hoarsely, “Off.”

 

It was a mimic of what Yuuri had said earlier, and Yuuri understood why Vikor had reacted the way he did.  He scrambled out of the underwear quickly, reaching up to claim Viktor’s mouth again…

 

But Vikor had gone very still.

 

Confusion fell over Yuuri.  His cock had started to get hard again with the command, and was aching to be touched.  “Viktor, please…”

 

“Yuuri,” the name was hissed darkly, and Yuuri didn’t know what was wrong, but he knew that whatever it was, they weren’t going to be continuing at all this evening.

 

It was then that Yuuri realized that Viktor’s fingers had fallen to four thin lines decorating his hip, still red from the other day and scabbed over, jagged from the steak knife.

 

Yuuri’s vision started to prickle on the edges.  Oh.   _Oh._ Yuuri could see it now, too, the array of interlacing scars, that Yuuri had been careful to keep in his underwear line.  The story of years of anxiety played with a knife like a bow on a violin, the sweet melody of cutting breaking through every bad thought like a sounding call.

 

Viktor was mouthing words as his fingers traced the white lines, one at a time, before the fingers started shaking.

 

“How could you?”

 

The words cut like daggers to Yuuri’s heart as Viktor’s eyes started to fill with angry tears.  

 

“How could you.  You promised you would come to me…” his voice was getting very shaky as the tears started to spill over, falling against the scarred skin.

 

“You never noticed before?”  Yuuri whispered, feeling like his tethers to reality were being cut like strings to a balloon.

 

“I don’t make it a habit to stare at you when we’re in the baths.  Not here.  I never wanted to make you uncomfortable…” the words were biting and sad all at once, and Yuuri had thought that Viktor hadn’t seen the scars, but thinking it and seeing it were two different things.  It was different seeing his eyes spill over with tears, falling in salty droplets on his own tanned skin, in sharp contrast with the thin white lines.

 

Finally, Yuuri managed to get a hold of himself and pulled back, fumbling for his underwear and pants.  “I’m sorry you had to see that…”

 

“Where are you going?”  Suddenly Viktor was up in a flash, grabbing Yuuri’s wrist in a vice-like grip, voice pleading.  “You can’t leave.”

 

Yuuri hovered somewhere between understanding Viktor’s concern and his anxiety starting to make his skin itch, screaming that he didn’t want to be touched right now.  

 

“Let me go, Viktor,” Yuuri intoned darkly, and the Russian pulled away like he’d been slapped.  Yuuri threw his pants on, not even bothering with the shirt, and sped out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I promise it gets better. The cliffhanger was just too irresistible. 
> 
> There's a lot of sweet family bonding in the next chapter so stay tuned for some love.


	4. Silver Teapot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Mari have a heart to heart. Then Yuuri and Viktor have a heart to heart. There's just a lot of hearts here. Also, Hiroko and Viktor cook together again, which I think I'm going to make a regular thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the last of the ones I had pre-written. From here on out I'll be updating about once or twice a week. If at any point you want to reach out to me regarding my storytelling, or that I'm not portraying something correctly, I love feedback. Please feel free to comment.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Discusses self harm, anxiety, medication, and interventions, with a potential for more topics later on. If at any point this fic makes you feel some type of way, turn on an episode of your favorite tv show. Read your favorite book. Organize your closet. Reach out to a loved one. It won't make the problem go away, but anything helps, right?
> 
> I don't own Yuri! on Ice, no matter how much I want to.

Yuuri was lying in his bed, watching his ceiling fan spin, as he heard the desperate voice of Viktor descend from irritation to sheer terror.  

 

“Please, open up, I need to know you’re okay, please…”

 

At some point the poor man started sobbing in Russian.  Then, at some other point, Yuuri bristled when he heard his sister’s voice from the other side of his door, trying to calm Viktor down enough so he could explain.

 

Yuuri couldn’t hear the exchange, it was whispered, but Mari was pounding on the door before long.

 

“Open up, Yuuri.”

 

Panic seized him around the middle, and he curled in on himself, trying to keep himself from falling apart, even though he knew it was only a matter of time until…

 

“ _ We still keep a key to your room in my room, _ ” Mari rushed in Japanese so Viktor wouldn’t understand, “ _ Either you open this door, or we’ll do it for you. _ ”

 

Yuuri’s hands shook as Mari sighed, her voice softening.  “ _ I won’t stay in there for long.  You probably need alone time.  I just need to assess your mental state, okay?  I just want you to be okay.” _

 

The words made the tears that he’d been holding back start to pool in his eyes, and he got up shakily, grabbing a shirt from his drawer and pressing his forehead against his door.

 

“ _ Just you. _ ”

 

Viktor knew enough Japanese to get the gist of what Yuuri had said, and started running off in English to Mari, about needed to be there, but he heard her cut him off.

 

“Go help mom in the kitchen.”

 

“But…”

 

“I have this, Viktor.  I’ll let you know what happens.  Let me take care of this.”

 

Yuuri could imagine the stare that Mari was fixing Viktor with, and before he knew it there was the sound of footsteps padding away.

 

After a few moments, Yuuri opened the door a crack, and Mari moved in quickly, shutting the door, then composing herself.

 

Breathing deeply as she took in her brother’s messy hair and tear-stained cheek, she nodded to the bed.  “Sit.”

 

Yuuri followed the order dutifully, doing his best to avoid eye contact.  Her dark brown eyes could see right into his soul, and that was the last thing he needed.

 

“How many times?”

 

Yuuri swallowed.  “Only once.  It was on impulse, not premeditated.”

 

She nodded.  “How long ago?”

 

“Three days.”

 

Mari cursed under her breath, leaning against his dresser.  She ran her fingers through the ends of her dyed-blonde hair, and Yuuri could smell the cigarette smoke floating towards him like a soft comfort.

 

“You promise you wouldn’t do it again after Phichit called us.”

 

Phichit had had too much, and had called Yuuri’s family in a last ditch effort to get Yuuri to stop before sending him to the hospital.  It had been a hard few hours of phone calls, quite a few shed tears, but he had promised his devastated mother that he would stop.

 

“It… got bad again.”

 

Mari nodded, crossing her arms over her chest.  “I thought that was what the meds were for?”

 

She didn’t mean it in any way, but it hit Yuuri hard, hearing his sister say that.  “The medication eases the day-to-day, yeah, but it won’t completely get rid of the issue.  I’ll always have anxiety.”

 

_ I’ll always have anxiety _ .  The words echoed in his head like a broken record.  The medications that he had been prescribed a few months ago helped, but they weren’t a cure-all.

 

“Maybe you should talk to your doctor about getting them adjusted,” she said matter-of-factly, “It can’t hurt anything.”

 

Yuuri nodded, easing into the idea of setting a plan in place, the concept smoothing over the anxiety like an iron over wrinkles.

 

“You can’t do that again,” her voice was hushed, full of emotion.  “You need to talk to one of us if you have the urge.  You need to get help.”

 

Tears were falling freely from his eyes again.  “It’s easy to say that now.  Right now, I feel safe.  I want to say that I agree, that I will come to you.  It’s so much harder when I’m in that dark place.  It’s so hard to imagine that someone would want to help me, that I’m not just seeking attention…”

 

Mari growled somewhere from low in her throat, suddenly.  “You never were one for attention.  That’s the anxiety talking.”

 

Nodding, Yuuri leaned back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling, hands coming up to his face.  “I messed up.”

 

“No shit.  Viktor was a mess,” Mari’s voice softened.  “He really cares about you, I think.”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” he grumbled, “He’s not going to stay after seeing this.”

 

Mari clucked her tongue.  “You’ve really learned nothing, then.”

 

The two of them sat in silence for a moment or two.

 

“How are you doing, right now?  Do you want to hurt yourself?”

 

Yuuri shook his head, closing his eyes, not wanting to talk about it anymore.  He felt fine now.  Anxious as hell about Viktor knowing, and angry at himself for not reaching out, but he didn’t want to hurt himself.

 

“I’m going to get the futon.  I’m going to sleep in here with you tonight…”

 

Yuuri sat up, eyes widened.  “Mari, that’s…”

 

His sister glared at him.  “If you say unnecessary, I swear…”

 

He swallowed the word down, hard, and nodded.  

 

“Now, dinner.  I was thinking some of my curry.  Want to help prepare it?”

 

Yuuri nodded.  The two of them got out the futon from the hall closet and set it up, then made their way towards the kitchen.  

 

The closer he got, the more he wanted to just freeze, stop moving, because he knew Viktor was only so many steps away, waiting for him…

 

_ “How could you…” _

 

“Yuuri, you’re shaking,” Mari pressed her thumbs in soothing motions on Yuuri’s hands, and he took a calming breath.  “We’ll do our thing, Viktor will help mom with dinner.  I’ll go ahead of you and explain so you won’t have to talk.  Okay?”

 

Relief flooded him, and he felt the sudden desire to tackle his sister with a hug.  Mari and him had never been overly affectionate towards each other, but they were always there if the other needed them.  

 

“ _ Arigatou gozaimasu _ ” Yuuri whispered, squeezing her hands.

 

She went into the kitchen, and he heard Viktor and her arguing for a few minutes, and he stood stock still, trying to drown out the sounds and not listen.

 

“Come on, Yuuri.  He agreed to give us space.”

 

He padded into the room, and saw his mother at work over the stove, nonplussed.  Viktor, however, was looking at Yuuri with some emotion he couldn’t place between frustration and longing and sadness.  

 

Hiroko barked orders at Viktor then, and the man started helping immediately, snapping to attention.

 

Yuuri followed Mari to their own side of the stove, and she took out the cutting board and threw some vegetables in the bowl for Yuuri to slice while she started going through the spice cabinet and pulling out other materials they would need.

 

Yuuri started in on the carrots first.  The slicing was calming in a way he wasn’t expecting it to be.  He could see Viktor out of his periphery, and he was eyeing the knife with an unreadable expression.

 

The dicing put him into a meditative state.  No one spoke as they each worked, other than the occasional order from Hiroko or question from Viktor.  Mari and Yuuri had made this dish together so many times, they didn’t need to speak.  Yuuri handed to potatoes over without her asking, she handed him materials as he needed them.

 

They were a well oiled machine.  Yuuri always found cooking soothing when he was in a high anxiety state.  Though being around other people was stressing him out, he understood why he wasn’t allowed to be alone.  

 

Making a food dish had the calming affect of knowing that you were doing something vital to other’s survival, that you had a purpose.  Yuuri fell into that role easily.

 

Once the curry was boiling, Mari nodded to the dining room.  “Hang out in there.  Want me to get you anything from your room to do?”

 

“Just… my laptop,” he blushed a little at how childish it felt, but there was something soothing about handing over control.

 

Viktor looked over at the words, from where he was chopping up tofu, and moved toward him, but Hiroko snapped, “I need those chopped, dear.”

 

At attention once more, the Russian went back to his work, and Yuuri let out the breath he had been holding.

 

Mari and Yuuri ate in comfortable silence.  Hiroko and Viktor didn’t stop long enough to eat until the sibling were already cleaning up, and Viktor watched dejectedly as Yuuri walked with his sister back to his room.

 

His sister had a book and he was on his email, responding to a few friends and some of the media that was reaching out for interviews.  They worked in silence, until Yuuri finally called it a night and switched off the lamp.

 

Mari nodded and curled up in her futon, and once he knew she was asleep, he whispered, “I love you, too.”

 

***

  
  


Yuuri yawned when he woke up the next morning, and stopped dead when he saw Viktor sitting on Mari’s futon, on Instagram with Makkachin lazily tucked between his legs.

 

The Russian looked a little worse for wear, but far more calm today.  When he heard Yuuri moving, he looked up, dropping his phone immediately.

 

“Yuuri, I…”

 

“No,” Yuuri shook his head, rubbing his eyes.  “Breakfast first, okay?”

 

Yuuri knew he wouldn’t be able to think straight until he got rid of the cobwebs.  Otherwise he’s absolutely useless in the morning.  

 

Viktor followed dutifully behind Yuuri, looking like he couldn’t figure out what to do with himself.  As Yuuri set to work starting the tea pot, Viktor pulled out the eggs and some vegetables and started making omelettes.  

 

At Yuuri’s raised brows, Viktor smiled sheepishly.  “What?  Cooking with your mother has taught me some things.”

 

Yuuri’s heart swelled a little watching him carefully cook up the vegetables, then whisk the eggs before pouring it over.  Yuuri watched quietly as he put cheese on them and set them on two separate plates.  

 

Viktor started walking towards the main dining room, but Yuuri shook his head.

 

They went back towards one of the family’s private party rooms and settled around the table there.  Yuuri poured them each out a cup of tea and then tucked in, quiet for a long time.

 

Once Yuuri finished his food, Viktor began.

 

“Yuuri, you have to…”   
  


“No, I don’t,” Yuuri said softly, so softly that he was surprised that Viktor heard him at all.  “Me first.”

 

Viktor nodded shortly. 

 

“I need you to understand some things about me.”

 

The Russian’s eyes widened, but he nodded again.

 

“When I was fifteen I started having anxiety.  It had been a problem all my life, but really got the worst then.  I’ve struggled with it for so long that I forget that people don’t know how to react to it.  I forget that I need to teach them.”

 

Yuuri swirled his tea around a little before taking a long sip.  The Russian waited patiently, hands folded together in his lap despite his breakfast only being half eaten.

 

“When I was a sophomore in college I started cutting.  It was a lot of things that I don’t want to get into now, but there was one thing that a lot of people don’t understand.  It was never about anyone else.  When I cut, it isn’t me telling anyone that I hate them or that I want to hurt them.  I cut for me.  To quiet the anxiety running loose in my head.”

 

Yuuri was waiting for the anxiety to start creeping up, but surprisingly he was feeling fairly calm.  His finger started tracing the pattern on the side of the tea pot.  

 

“Yesterday, when you said ‘how could you?’ I heard ‘You betrayed me.’  That’s not it at all.  It was never about you in the first place.”

 

Yuuri knew that on some level it was about Viktor, but not in any way he could control, and not in any way that negated his own actions in the matter.

 

“I hadn’t cut in two years.  The other day was just a culmination of a lot of things all at once.  When I get like that, it isn’t so much that I decide to do it as much as I see no other way.”

 

Yuuri blushed a little as he continued, “I really enjoyed yesterday, and I hate that me making a stupid decision a few days ago ruined it.  It’s… something that is a part of me.  When you looked at me with disgust, I felt it, like you were disgusted with me.”

 

They sat there quietly for a moment before Viktor asked quietly, “May I speak, now?”

 

A little dazed, Yuuri nodded.

 

“I reacted badly.  I saw something I had no experience with and my first reaction was to feel afraid and confused.  I don’t have anyone in my life who has gone through that, and seeing you, someone I admire, resort to something so outside of my realm of understanding, hit me hard.”

 

Yuuri couldn’t help but feel emotion well up inside of him at the words “someone I admire”.

 

“I had a conversation with Mari this morning.  She told me that the most important thing for you right now is to have someone with you, who is ready to support you when you need it.  But I don’t know how to be support for someone who hurts themselves.  I… I’m out of my depth,” Viktor ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, “I need you to tell me the right thing to do.”

 

It was like he’d poured cold water down Yuuri’s back.  It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know what to do, but it still stung to know how much he was inconveniencing his coach.

 

“Just stay close to me.”

 

The reflection of the routine that brought them together had Yuuri start choking in emotion, and he felt Viktor move around the table and gently slide his hands around his waist from behind.  Yuuri leaned back into the embrace, closing his eyes.

 

“I need you to tell me when things are bad.  I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

 

Yuuri nodded, feeling more idiotic by the minute.  “It… it’s different.  When things are really bad I have a hard time remembering that the people who love me want to help.”

 

Viktor nodded, brushing his fingers soothingly across his chest.

 

“I need you to remind me, sometimes,” Yuuri’s voice was low and choked now, “I hate asking, and being an inconvenience…”

 

“No,  _ solnishko _ , I’ll tell you every day.”

 

His voice was firm, and Yuuri nodded, suddenly feeling the emotions start to edge out, and his fingers laced with Viktor’s.

 

“Talk to Phichit,” Yuuri said softly, his fingers tracing Viktor’s hand, “He was there when I went through this a few years ago.  He probably could help you sort it all out.”

 

Viktor pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s hairline.  “Thanks for letting me know.  I’ll call him later today.”

 

“About practice…”

 

“Like normal,” Viktor said calmly, “Our rink time is booked like normal.  We need to head over soon.”

 

Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, relishing in the thought of letting himself give over to the strict practice of the body instead of the mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some important notes about the fic:
> 
> It's really important to me that Viktor is not Yuuri's sole support system. It's called a "system" for a reason. He will need to utilize all of his loved ones in order to pull himself together. So if anyone is upset that there wasn't more Viktor/Yuuri time, I'm sorry. There will still be plenty of that moving forward, trust me. 
> 
> Another very important aspect of the series that I want to stay true to is that Viktor doesn't fix Yuuri's anxiety. He just creates a safe space for Yuuri to talk about it. They make each other stronger, but they aren't always perfect together. No one is. This little misunderstanding is what makes them human.
> 
> Stay tuned for more moving forward. Some stuff I'm planning on having in the future: working through what the theme of this season means for Yuuri, as well as delving more into his past with his mental illness. Also, more Phichit, eventually some more skating, and our little angry kitten will make an appearance. Hiroko and Viktor will make a traditional Russian dish, maybe. Definitely more smut because the tenth circle of hell needs some good reading material


	5. Silver Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is adorable and honest when he's exhausted. Viktor reaches out to the other people in Yuuri's life, searching for ways to support him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!
> 
> I realize that I have no self control and will probably post pretty often until the story starts to settle. What can I say, this show means the world to me.
> 
> This chapter is pretty tame. I have some fun stuff planned for next chapter, though, which should be up in the next few days.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussion of self harm as well as the stress of being in a support system and anxiety. If this fic starts to make you feel some type of way, look at cute YOI art on tumblr. Do some yoga. Cook a fun recipe. Reach out to a loved one.
> 
> As much as I wish I did, I don't own Yuri! on Ice.

Viktor had Yuuri working on jumps for four hours.

 

By the end of it, everything hurt.  He had bruises in places that he didn’t even know he could bruise.

 

Viktor was beaming at him.

 

“You’re so close to getting the quad salchow consistently!  Your triple axel is looking sharper as well.”

 

Yuuri nodded, still trying to catch his breath.  Despite his stamina, perfecting his jumps for so long had punched a hole in his resolve.  

 

It had, however, kept his mind busy, without any time to slow down.

 

“Your mother is teaching me how to make her Italian marinara sauce tonight!  She’s making chicken parmesan.  I’m amazed by her talents.  She could probably work in a five-star restaurant!”

 

Yuuri nodded, exhaustion making it incredibly difficult to focus.  

 

“We’ve got two hours until then.  Let’s head back and soak in the hot springs.”

 

His words were running right past Yuuri; the younger man nodded, but wasn’t really taking in what the Russian was saying.

 

“Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri blinked, and shook his head to clear it.  “Sorry, long day.  I’m going to splash some cold water on my face.”

 

Viktor nodded, already looking at his phone and scrolling through his Snapchat.  

 

Yuuri went over to the sinks in the locker room, taking in himself in the mirror.  He gulped, leaning over and running the water.  He looked like shit.  His hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat, and his face was red from exertion.  

 

_ I feel… normal, though.  Good. _

 

A small smile appeared on his lips, and he couldn’t help but feel a rush of happiness.  Viktor was smart.  He knew just how to keep Yuuri occupied.

 

Speaking of Viktor…

 

It was a conversation that they had to have.  They’d kissed, and done… other things, and they still hadn’t talked about what their relationship meant.  Yuuri wanted to believe that the older man had feelings for him, real, true feelings, but had no evidence to support the claim.

 

He took a steadying breath, hoping that he would be able to get this out without falling asleep in the baths.

 

The walk back was quiet, mostly just Viktor recounting funny things he saw on social media.  Yuuri felt the drag in every muscle in his body, and fought relentlessly to stay present in the moment.

 

When they got to the locker room of the onsen, Yuuri stripped, not really thinking about what he was doing.  When he turned around, Viktor was already stripped down, and he carefully avoided looking at Yuuri’s hips.

 

“Shall we?”

 

Yuuri nodded, fighting the urge to cover back up.  This was a trust test.  Viktor needed to be able to take all of him, every jagged edge.  This was a part of him as much as everything else.

 

Yuuri caught a look of himself in the mirror, and his eyes widened at the patchwork of purple and blue on his body.  It had felt good, stretching his body to the limits, and he smiled in spite of the pain.

 

Once they rinsed off and eased into the bath, Viktor started to work easing Yuuri into careful stretches, so that he didn’t stiffen too much that night.  Yuuri was trying his best to focus on the stretch, but the naked Russian brushing up against him was proving difficult to ignore.

 

When Viktor considered Yuuri sufficiently stretched, they leaned back against the edge of the spring only a few feet apart, silent but for the running of the water.

 

Viktor beat him to it.

 

“I was thinking, today, about the other night.”

 

Yuuri blushed, but Viktor quickly clarified.

 

“No, no, not then.  The night that we slept next to each other.  I want to do that again.”

 

Yuuri nodded, eyes narrowing, trying to get a grasp of where Viktor was going with that.

 

“I guess I’m saying that I wanted to post a picture today, and I didn’t know what to say.  This is me and my student?  This is me and my boyfriend?  I wanted to know…”

 

Yuuri chuckled, fighting his urge to fall asleep against the rocks.  “Is this your DTR introduction?”

 

Viktor brushed back his silver hair, confusion splayed over his features.  “DTR?”

 

“Oh,” Yuuri blushed, realizing that it wasn’t common knowledge.  “It was an American phrase.  It meant Define The Relationship.”

 

Viktor smiled suddenly, pointing at Yuuri excitedly.  “Yes, that!  I want to do that.”  

 

Yuuri blinked, muttering, “I think we’ve passed the point of just friends a while ago.”

 

Viktor nodded, winking at him.  “I want to figure out what kind of feelings we have between us.  I don’t just want to help you become a better skater.  I find myself wondering what your favorite color is, the rhythm of you coming down the stairs, whether you’re ticklish…”

 

At that Yuuri felt fingers snake under the water and start poking at his sides, and he gasped, jumping up.  He felt more awake then than he had in almost an hour.  

 

Laughing, he pulled Viktor’s hands into his own, lacing their fingers together: nervously, suddenly.  “I want to learn those things about you too.  My favorite color is blue, by the way.”

 

Viktor smiled, and they pulled their hands apart for the sake of the other guests, but there was something that settled over them, a blanket of intimacy that went beyond physical touching.

 

“So… what should I call you, then?”

 

Viktor pressed his finger to his lips.  “How about your lover?”

 

Yuuri blushed again, starting to feel the exhaustion threaten to pull him under.  “How about my boyfriend?”

 

Viktor’s eyes sparkled, and he nodded, touching a soft hand to Yuuri’s shoulder.

 

“You’re exhausted, Yuuri.  Why don’t you take a nap?  I’m helping your mother with dinner soon anyway.”

 

The dark haired man nodded, blinking back the exhaustion as it hit him like a ton of bricks.  Viktor helped him from the water.  He didn’t have the energy to put his clothes back on, so Viktor helped him into one of the inn’s robes.

 

“Boyfriend,” Yuuri hummed the word appreciatively, and Viktor looked at him fondly, tying the robe off in the front.  

 

“Boyfriend,” Viktor agreed, and he lead the exhausted man through the inn until they were moving past Viktor’s room towards Yuuri’s, but the younger man stopped.

 

“Come on, your room…”

 

“No,” Yuuri mumbled grumpily, hazy from the tiredness, “I want to sleep here.”

 

Viktor cocked his head to the side, walking to stand face to face with Yuuri, brushing his dark, damp hair back.  

 

“It smells like you,” Yuuri said finally, looking sheepish.

 

The Russian’s bright blue eyes lit up, and he grinned mischievously.  “You like my smell, Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri nodded, leaning his forehead against the Russian’s shoulder.  “I’m tired, Viktor,” he muttered grumpily, and Viktor chuckled, helping him into the room and settling him onto the bed.

 

“Sleep tight,  _ solnishko _ .”

  
  


***

  
  


Viktor quietly pulled out an old t-shirt and jeans from his drawers, careful not to wake Yuuri, though he was pretty sure nothing could wake Yuuri at that moment.  He made the mistake of wearing one of his designer shirts the first time him and Hiroko cooked, and only cried for ten minutes when he had to throw it out later that night.

 

He wasn’t sacrificing any more of his designer outfits.

 

As he padded towards the kitchen, he passed the living room, where Mari was playing with Makkachin, happily cooing at the dog.

 

Viktor’s heart melted at the sight, and leaned against the door frame until the woman noticed him.

 

She smiled tightly.  “Viktor.”

 

“Is Mari good to you, Makka?” Viktor said happily, leaning over to pet his beloved dog.  “She’s been taking such good care of you while I’m in the baths.”

 

Mari pulled her cigarette pack out, motioning for the door.  “Join me, yeah?”

 

Viktor felt himself freeze up, but nodded, following the older Katsuki sibling out onto the back patio as she lit her cigarette, her long drag illuminating the shadows in the late afternoon sun.  

 

“How is he?”

 

“Asleep,” Viktor said, but sighed when she eyed him pointedly.  “I don’t know, Mari.  I’m way out of my depth.”

 

“Are you going to leave?”

 

The question wasn’t unexpected, but it made the Russian bristle.  “No.  I care about him, Mari.  I’m not going anywhere.”

 

She nodded, flicking the ash onto the patio.  “It’s not going to get easier.  He’s been struggling since he was a teenager.  I had almost forgot, because he had been gone for so long, but having him back is reminding me of how exhausting it is.”

 

Viktor cringed, muttering darkly, “That’s…”

 

Quickly, her eyes widened.  “I didn’t mean… I love him.  He’s so important to me.  Yuuri is a great brother.  For every moment I have to keep an eye out for him he makes it worth it a thousand times over.  Sometimes I think he does things that are so thoughtful because he thinks he owes the people around him.  Watch out for that.”

 

Viktor started to get a little panicked at how fast the list of things he needed to keep an eye on was growing.

 

“I’m here, if it ever gets too much.  Mom and dad know a lot, but they aren’t ever the ones he confides in about these things.  When you don’t feel like you have anyone, you have me.  Oh, and Phichit.  Have you called him yet?”

 

Viktor shook his head.  “I’m supposed to help your mother with dinner.”

 

Her calloused hands gripped Viktor’s shoulder, bracing him.  “Good luck with that.”

 

Viktor blinked through his curtain of silver bangs.  “But I love cooking with Hiroko…”

 

Mari just laughed, a hearty, deep thing, and wandered out into the yard, leaving Viktor confused in her wake.

 

When he got to the kitchen, the sweet Hiroko gasped in excitement.  “Vicchan!  Onions,” she pointed to the onions waiting for him on the cutting board, and he nodded, starting to dice them immediately.

 

The first few times he tried, dicing onions seemed a daunting and time-consuming task, but it quickly became a simple matter of planning and patience, and Hiroko shooting advice over his shoulder while on her way to do twelve other things.

 

“I have to sautee the onions and garlic first with the sausage.  Toss it into the pot, dear,” she peeled off the casings of the sausage and plopped them into the pot, breaking them apart with the wooden spoon before Viktor put his own offering in, along with a few cloves of garlic.

 

“We’ll let that cook a while before we add the liquids,” she instructed, handing him a few tomatoes.  “Blend these for me, would you?”

 

Viktor nodded eagerly, the smells a symphony in his nostrils and made his mouth water already.

 

“How was practice today?”

 

“Great!  Yuuri’s jumps are coming together very well.  He’s very talented, your son.”

 

The mother nodded, eyes scrunching in happiness behind her glasses.  “We always knew.  It was just convincing him.”

 

They were quiet for a moment as Viktor started the blender up, offering up bits of tomato as he sliced them into the tiny slot in the top.  

 

“You bring out a side of him we haven’t seen before,” she said after a while, stirring the contents in the pot.  “We’re so lucky to have you here, Vicchan.”

 

Emotion swirled within the man, and he took a moment to control his features before he started to cry.  His own relationship with his mother was… troubled.  He never found the courage to say it out loud, but spending so much time with Hiroko was something that was bringing out new sides to him, too.

 

“Grab some fresh basil from the herb box outside, would you?”

 

Viktor took a deep breath, smiling brightly at the woman.  “Of course, Mama Katsuki.”

 

The nickname had been something he’d used before, but not when they were alone.  Her eyes widened, and she stopped what she was doing a moment, watching the Russian leave the room.

  
  


***

  
  


When Viktor edged into his room and flicked the light on, he was met with a decadent sight.

 

Yuuri was sprawled out on his mattress, having kicked aside the blankets.  At some point Makkachin had gathered them and turned them into a pseudo-doggy bed on the floor.

 

His chest was rising and falling in drawn out breaths, and the robe he was wearing had parted, only coming together just at his navel.  Viktor did his best to avoid staring for too long at how precious the young man looked before he set down on the bed, running his fingers over the younger man’s hair.  His eyelids were fluttering, probably from a dream he was having, and Viktor was loathe to wake him, but knew he needed to eat dinner.

 

“Time to rejoin the living, Yuuri,” he whispered into the young man’s ear, and Yuuri groaned, rolling over and away from Viktor.

 

Viktor chuckled, poking Yuuri’s side and eliciting a hiss from the Japanese man.  “Come on, Yuuri, your mother made dinner.”

 

Sitting up, blinking sleep out of his eyes, he slid his glasses back on.

 

Once he could see, he balked, looking around him frantically.  “When… when did I get here?”

 

“Here as in the onsen or here as in my bed?”

 

“Viktor,” Yuuri groaned, “You know what I mean.”

 

The Russian smiled widely.  “You said you wanted to sleep here because you liked my smell.”

 

The blush lit like a fire across Yuuri’s cheekbones, and he buried his head in his hands.  “Oh, no…”

 

“No, it was  _ adorable _ , trust me,” Viktor cooed, encircling Yuuri in his arms.  “You are adorable.”

 

Yuuri groaned again, but was smiling now.  “I’ll go get dressed, then.”

 

He made to get up, but Viktor tugged on his sleeve suddenly, coming up onto his knees so that he was eye level with the other man.

 

Putting on a perfect pout, Viktor whispered, “Kiss, first?”

 

Yuuri rubbed his eyes under his glasses, a grin splitting his face.  “No one warned me how dangerous you were when you pout.”

 

“I’m used to getting what I want,” the Russian countered, and Yuuri leaned in, pressing a light kiss the Viktor’s lips, making him hum in appreciation. 

  
  


***

  
  


After dinner died down and Yuuri retired for the night, Viktor took his phone out into the front garden, tapping his foot for a few minutes until he decided on exactly what he was going to say.

 

The Thai man answered on the third ring.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hi, Phichit, it’s Viktor Nikiforov.  Yuuri gave me your number.”

 

There was a rush of garbled and excited Thai on the other line before, “It’s so nice to talk to you!  I have a million questions for you.  Did you really adopt Makkachin from an abusive family?  Are you really going to stay retired?  Is there…”

 

“Phichit, slow down,” Viktor chuckled good-naturedly, “We’ll have plenty of time to discuss all of that, but first, I’m calling about Yuuri.”

 

Phichit stopped, his voice changing tone immediately from excited to sober.  “He texted me earlier to warn me that you might.  He explained what happened.”

 

“How did you do it, Phichit?”  Viktor’s voice trembled a little bit.  “If I’m not with him I have no idea what he’ll do.  At any moment he could be hurting himself.  It’s so much.”

 

Viktor took a moment to breathe and collect himself as the other man thought over his response.  Viktor took a moment to stare at the flowers, which in the silver light pouring down from the sky lost all color.  He couldn’t, for the life of him, remember what color they were supposed to be, and wondered why he was so bothered by it.

 

Finally, Phichit found his words.

 

“I can tell you what I did, if that helps.”

 

Viktor perked up, nodding even though the other man couldn’t see him.

 

“He minimizes a lot.  Do you know what that means?”

 

“No, I don’t,” Viktor confessed, feeling out of his depth already.

 

“That’s fine.  It means that he makes things seem the least concerning possible.  He’ll brush off really serious situations as no big deal.  It is a big deal, though.”

 

VIktor bit his lip.  “Go on.”

 

“He gets stubborn and proud sometimes.  He won’t want you to help him.  At those moments, you have to let him come to you.”

 

The thought of waiting for Yuuri to come to him didn’t sit well with Viktor, but he wanted to take the other skater’s advice to heart.  

 

“When he’s having a really bad day, he likes to skate, but sometimes he doesn’t stop.  When he gets like that, really caught up in his own head, you have to give him clear directives.  Like ‘eat this’ and ‘go to sleep’.  Don’t be convoluted.  His mind is muddled enough as it is.”

 

Viktor wish he had thought to bring a notebook and pen out with him.  “Got it.”

 

There was silence for a moment on the other line. “I understand what it feels like, to have to surrender control to someone who had trouble helping themselves.  Sometimes when he doesn’t respond for too long, I think that this is it.  This is the time I’m going to get a call that my best friend is dead.”

 

The phrase knocked the wind out of Viktor. It shocked him and suddenly his hands were shaking.

 

“It isn’t easy.  He’s worth it, though.”

 

“I know,” VIktor whispered, trying to steady his hand by placing it on his chest.

 

“If you ever need advice, you have my number now,” there was a slight pause, “and if you break his heart, I can hack all of your social media accounts.  Don’t make me do it, Nikiforov.”

 

He couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing.  The Thai man followed suit on the other end.  “So, about Makkachin…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so in love with Hiroko and Viktor bonding time. 
> 
> Some important notes for the chapter:
> 
> I'm trying to portray the support system realistically. It isn't easy loving someone with a mental illness. However, the relationship's payoff is always worth the trouble. Don't ever feel like you can't reach out to your support system. They chose to be a part of your life for a reason, and they aren't going anywhere.
> 
> Minimizing is a really serious problem, especially with people who aren't used to reaching out. Sometimes the person doesn't see the situation clearly because they're too close. 
> 
> If any of you feel like I'm not representing something correctly, always feel free to reach out to me. It's so important that I'm being true to Yuuri's experience and the experience of anyone with a mental illness. Everyone is different, and my own experiences are only a little part of the puzzle.
> 
> Check back in next time for some fun and smut;)


	6. Silver Skates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor enjoys Yuuri's run through of Eros a little more than normal, which leads to some very interesting student-coach bonding activities. Later, Yuuri gets the music for his free program, and is filled with a newfound sense of confidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ding* Room service! Did someone order a skates-on blowjob? If not, then here: take it anyway.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: this fic deals explicitly with self harm as well as anxiety, explicit sexual content, and the stress of being in a support system. If at any point this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Do a cartwheel. Press a kiss to your wrist. Doodle something you think is beautiful.
> 
> As much as I wish I did, I don't own Yuri! on Ice.

 

The ice slid underneath Yuuri smoothly, fresh from the zamboni.  Something was different today.  He could feel it, a subtle shift under his skin, like he was a piano that was finally tuned correctly.

 

Their time on the ice was scheduled for after public skate, and the two of them had spent the morning going over more cooking and food terms in Japanese.  Viktor had insisted that if he wanted to cook with Hiroko that he had to know the way she would say things.   Yuuri had walked around the kitchen with Viktor following dutifully at his heels, pointing at different objects and walking him slowly through the proper pronunciation.

 

Yuuri was still sore from jumps the day before, so Viktor had him running step sequences and basics for a few hours before he finally clapped his hands together.  “Right!  Let’s run Eros three times and call it a day.”

 

Yuuri shook his head.  “I can go longer…”

 

“Nope!  Coach’s orders,” Viktor grinned, and Yuuri wondered how the man managed to pull off adorable and menacing simultaneously. 

 

Once Yuuri heard the music start, he knew what had changed.

 

He wasn’t just dancing to allure Viktor anymore.  Now he knew what he felt like, what he tasted like, and was not only trying to seduce him, but to remind the other man what it felt like to be seduced by him.

 

He ran the whole thing through once and skated over to the Russian man, who looked a little pink cheeked and bright eyed.

 

“What did you think?” Yuuri tried his best to keep a straight face.

 

“It was perfect!” Viktor pulled Yuuri into a hug, whispering, “Now run it again and think of all of the things you want me to do to you when we get home.”

 

_ Home _ .  Viktor said it like it was both of their homes, and that made Yuuri’s possessive side growl in appreciation, until he realized that he had growled out loud.

 

“Yuuri…”

 

He didn’t want to think twice about it, but slid his fingers to the back of Viktor’s neck and pulled him down for an all-consuming kiss.

 

Viktor spluttered, but let himself be taken by Yuuri for a moment before Yuuri pushed away from him suddenly, winking.

 

“Ready to watch me run it again,  _ coach _ ?”

 

Nodding, dazed, Viktor fumbled with the music and started it again.

 

It was hitting him now.  The thought of running his hands all over Viktor’s body, of kissing down his chest, of feeling his delicious hardness in between his fingers, or maybe even swallowing Viktor down into his mouth, and bobbing and licking until he came, salty and perfect…

 

By time he finished running through the second time, Viktor decided that twice was enough.

 

They barely made it into the locker room before Viktor pressed Yuuri up against the lockers, diving into the younger man’s mouth with his tongue.

 

Yuuri groaned in appreciation, responding in kind, moving his hands to encircle Viktor’s waist, holding him in place in front of him.  He pressed sloppy kisses down Viktor’s neck then, as Viktor whispered breathily, “I’ve imagined bringing you in here to fuck so many times after watching you do Eros…”

 

Yuuri pulled away, a little surprised, when Viktor huffed in annoyance.  

 

“Do you really think I would watch you dance a seduction routine this many times and not have thought about this…?” Viktor’s pale fingers brushed down the front of Yuuri’s shirt, and Yuuri sighed at the contact.

 

“Not sex,” Yuuri said breathily as Viktor took his turn to press kisses along his collarbone.  

 

“No,” Viktor agreed, “I had this other fantasy, where after you finished I would bring you in here and get on my knees and suck you off until you were screaming my name and begging me to let you come.”

 

The image went right to Yuuri’s cock, and he started to react to the mental image of Viktor on his knees in front of him…

 

“Do you like that, Yuuri?  Your breath caught,” Viktor nuzzled into his neck, whispering just below his ear, “Would you like me to do that, Yuuri?”

 

“We’re in public,” Yuuri gasped, but if he really cared about that he wouldn’t be making out with Viktor in the locker room in the first place.  

 

“Hmm, you’re right,” Viktor’s fingers were playing with the waistband of Yuuri’s pants now, “Anyone could just walk in.  I kind of want them to.  I want everyone to see how much I want you.  I want them to see how I just  _ can’t wait _ to get home, it has to be here.”

 

Yuuri was sure, in that moment, that Viktor was going to be the death of him.

 

“I need your permission, Yuuri,” Viktor dropped a kiss to just below his earlobe, “I want you to let me make you feel good.”

 

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.  “God, yes.”

 

It was all Viktor needed before he dropped on his knees in front of Yuuri.  The younger man was still wearing his skates, but it put him at the perfect height for Viktor’s mouth, and that thought alone was making Yuuri’s mind spin.

 

“Tell me if I do something you don’t like,” Viktor said seriously, looking up at Yuuri through silver lashes, and Yuuri thought momentarily that he looked so delicious that way, looking up at him.  Then again there were very few positions that Yuuri  _ didn’t _ think that he looked delicious.

 

The Russian tenderly nosed at Yuuri’s growing and clothed erection, growling in appreciation before pulling down his pants and underwear to mid-thigh in one swoop.

 

Yuuri’s heart was hammering as Viktor ignored Yuuri’s half-hard member and instead tenderly pressed kisses to the fresh cuts on his hips.

 

_ He accepts all of me,  _ Yuuri thought, and that thought made his eyes start to tear up and stomach twist into happy knots.  

 

Viktor continued to press chaste kisses to the scars there, before passing back over Yuuri’s erection and doing the same to the other side, being careful to catch each one, and Yuuri’s knees started to feel a little weak at the onrush of emotion at the sight.

 

Once Viktor was done, his fingers danced below Yuuri until they brushed up against Yuuri’s balls, and he gasped, not expecting it, as Viktor gently kneaded the flesh there, sending shivers down Yuuri’s spine.  While doing that, Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief as the Russian finally showed attention to his cock, licking a long stripe on the underside, his warm tongue leaving a fresh trail of rapidly cooling saliva that made Yuuri moan in appreciation

 

Viktor wasn’t kidding about Yuuri begging.  He was taking his time, slow and leisurely, pressing open mouth, sloppy kisses to the base of Yuuri’s erection, fingers playing with his sensitive sack, and Yuuri couldn’t help but whisper breathily, “Viktor.”

 

“Hmmm,” Viktor moved his lips up Yuuri’s cock, continuing to press kisses along the side until he hit the top, looking up at Yuuri through his lashes again, and Yuuri swore that the other man was taunting him.  “Say it again.”

 

In time with his request, Viktor’s fingers moved from his balls and grasped Yuuri’s cock, making Yuuri gasp, “VIktor!”   
  


“Mmmm,” Viktor approved, and he delicately licked the slit and the beading precum that had formed there, making Yuuri buck unexpectedly, and Viktor tsk-ed him.  “Impatient, are we?”

 

“Please,” Yuuri gasped, and Viktor swallowed him to the hilt.

 

Yuuri tried very hard to stay still, but the feeling was just too  _ good _ .  He hadn’t been touched like this in too long, so long that he felt tears drip down his cheeks.  He needed this.  He needed to feel wanted, to feel sought after.  He needed someone to make him feel irresistible.

 

And Viktor, whose tongue was now swirling maddeningly over Yuuri’s hardness, was doing a damn good job.

 

Yuuri’s breathing was labored, and he sobbed out, “Viktor!” as the man bobbed down again, fingers gathering the saliva leftover and pumping him slowly as his tongue gave proper attention to the head.

 

VIktor hummed in appreciation of his name, and the vibrations were unreal.

 

Yuuri was breathing in mostly gasps now, desperately holding onto the lockers behind him, feeling like his legs would give out at any minute.

 

For a moment, he desperately tried to remember which time Yuuko usually came out of the office to shut everything down and lock up, when the janitor would come through to mop the floors, but he saw white suddenly when Viktor gently dragged his teeth along the sensitive skin of his head.

 

“Fuck, Viktor!” Yuuri chanted his name like a prayer, because he  _ was _ praying, praying to whatever god was kind enough to send him someone like Viktor; someone who’d turned Yuuri’s life upside down in all the right ways, who was teaching him, with every lick and stroke, that he was worthy of being loved.

 

“I’m close,” was all the warning he gave before Viktor hummed appreciatively and the vibrations sent him over the edge, jerking erratically as he spilled into Viktor’s mouth, the Russian not popping off until Yuuri was properly spent.

 

“Vkusno,” Viktor whispered, leaning back onto his feet on the floor, wiping a small dribble of come that was tracking down his chin and sucking on his thumb appreciatively.

 

Yuuri was working hard to slow down his breathing, and quickly pulled his pants up, in case anyone would walk in.  Viktor stood, dusting off his knees, and Yuuri moaned low in his throat at how debauched his boyfriend looked, lips red and swollen from sucking, cheeks flushed, hair messy and falling against his bright blue eyes.

 

Viktor pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek then, smiling dubiously.  “Good?”

 

Yuuri laughed at that and could barely catch his breath, leaning onto Viktor’s shoulder and nodding against his shirt.

 

“Very good.”

  
  


***

  
  
  


When the two of them got home, the inn was quiet save for Toshiya cleaning up the kitchen.  Yuuri sincerely hoped that neither of them looked like what they had just done at the rink, and his father didn’t seem fazed by the two of them.

 

“ _ Hey, dad _ ,” Yuuri said with a smile in Japanese, knowing that of all his family members his father’s English was the worst.

 

“ _ Hey, Yuuri.  How was practice?” _

 

Yuuri glanced over at Viktor, who was divvying out two bowls of watermelon for the two of them.  “ _ It went well.  Viktor’s challenging me.  It’s… good.” _

 

Toshiya nodded, continuing to wipe down the counter.  “ _ How have you been feeling? _ ”

 

Yuuri bristled at the question, but knew that his father just wanted to help.  “ _ Better, these last few days.  If it gets bad again I’ll let you know. _ ”

 

The older man nodded again, his salt-and-pepper hair falling into his face.  “ _ We love you, you know that, right? _ ”

 

Yuuri’s throat started to close up with emotion.  “ _ I know.  I think I’m learning how to accept that. _ ”

 

Toshiya smiled and wend back to his work, and Yuuri wondered briefly how much of his life he spent ignoring the love he was so dutifully given.

 

Viktor brushed his hand against Yuuri’s pulling him towards the dining room.

 

“You okay?”

 

Yuuri nodded, still a little stupefied.  “I’m getting there.”

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri was sitting on his laptop later that night when a little ding notified him that the girl had gotten back to him about the music.

 

Excitement rushed through him as he listened for the first time, and he ignored the fact that Viktor had already fallen asleep for the night and ran into his room, almost stepping on poor Makkachin in the process.

 

Yuuri didn’t even blink that the Russian wasn’t wearing any clothes and yelled, “It’s here!”

 

He put the headphones in the other man’s ears and pressed play.

 

The expression on Viktor’s face went from tired and slow to serious to excited over the course of listening.  Yuuri waited with bated breath until Viktor’s face lit up like the sun, nodding in excitement.

 

“I was thinking, we could start with some decisive musical movements…”

 

Viktor scrambled to get a pad and paper next to his bed, and the two of them started from the beginning, listening to the piece over and over, coming up with the composition, until they passed out, the content of the program cradled between them, fingers interlaced over the pen.

  
  


***

  
  


“I meant to ask last night,” Viktor said slowly, “Did you change the musical theme?”

 

Yuuri did his best to push down all of his fears as he nodded.  “The theme is ‘On My Love’.”

 

Yuuri’s heart hammered in his chest as Viktor stared at him a moment, lips parted slightly, before his lips split into a grin.  “I think that’s a perfect choice.”

 

As Yuuri started the program and Viktor skated around him, making corrections and comments, Yuuri felt it, bubbling up beneath the surface, a confidence that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

  
_ I think I can win _ .

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are looking up for our little Katsudon!
> 
> Some notes: Yes, it will be addressed that Yuuri didn't reciprocate. Yes, Toshiya will have a part to play, I just hadn't found a place to put him yet.
> 
> Next up: Yuuri and Viktor get their signals crossed, and Yuuri is both an asshole and adorable as anything. Yuuko makes an appearance. Gay rights is legalized everywhere. Yuri! on Ice gets an order for never ending seasons.
> 
> Okay, just the first two, but a girl can dream, right?


	7. Silver Bow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri have a disagreement. Mari confronts Yuuri about something he's been avoiding. Then, Yuuko reminds Yuuri that she's there for him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> This chapter is resolving some stuff and setting up for some more fun in the future. My current plan is to continue focusing on the time in Episode 4 that is largely condensed, because there's so much possible material to sift through.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of self harm, anxiety, and the stress of being in a support system. If this fic, at any point, makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Play a board game with a friend. Climb a tree. Annoy your cat. It won't make the feeling go away, but it can't hurt anything, right?
> 
> As per usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice and all it's magic.

Yuuri went to Minako’s place after practice with Viktor to touch up on his form.  His friend was waiting for him, in loose fitting clothes and wearing a small smile.

 

They briefly caught up, Minako guiding Yuuri through some stretches, working on his flexibilty/

 

When Yuuri and her were finished with their stretches, she finally broke.

 

“I heard you and Viktor stepped up your relationship.”

 

Yuuri froze, shaking a little bit as he sat up.  “Who…”

 

In lieu of answering, she brought out her phone, and handed it to Yuuri, whose eyes widened unbelievably, whispering, “Viktor…”

 

He was mortified.  Viktor had mentioned tagging Yuuri in a photograph, but Yuuri had been too tired to register the comment past remembering that he said it.  

 

There he was though, a picture of him during his first run through of his step sequence today.  He had to admit that the picture was a good one; it was early in practice so he wasn’t sweaty and red yet, and he looked determined, in a position that showed off his ass.

 

It was meant for Viktor’s eyes only, though.  He hadn’t even seen the other man snap the picture.

 

It was captioned:

 

_The glorious Yuuri Katsuki practicing his free program for me.  I’m the luckiest man in the world #bestboyfriendever #roadtograndprix #iceskating #yuurionice_ ….

 

The hashtags went on for quite a while, but Yuuri’s shaking hands dropped the phone.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong?  You’ve always wanted to be with Viktor.”

 

The room was spinning a little bit, breath coming in short gasps as his throat started burning because there wasn’t enough getting in and _oh no I’m having a panic attack._

 

Minako was well versed in how to talk him through it, though, quickly easing him to put his head between his knees.  After she got him settled she dialed a number and was talking quietly in the background.

 

“Yuuri, Mari is coming to get you.  Come back tomorrow instead, okay?  I don’t have a class at this time.  Go talk to Viktor.  I think you two need to have a long chat.”

 

Yuuri snapped his head up, still struggling to breathe, and opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out.

 

“Come on, list the different kinds of jumps in figure skating.”

 

Yuuri gasped a few times before sputtering, “L-lutz, l-l-loop…”

 

After a few moments the older woman whistled, letting her hair down and brushing through it with her fingers.  “It’s because you haven’t told anyone yet, right?”

 

“No,” Yuuri said quickly, breathing still labored but manageable, “It’s because I’m his student.  I don’t want anyone to think he chose me for a lay.  He put our business out into the world without even consulting me first…”

 

Minako nodded, leaning up against the mirror, the back of her body dissolving into the start of a new one at the surface.  “I understand.  Talk to him.  I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.”

 

Yuuri made the mistake of picking up his phone next, to about forty texts from Phichit.

 

_P: Holy shit you guys are official!?_

 

_P: Wait, did Viktor tell you he was doing this?_

 

_P: Fuck, he didn’t, did he!?!?_

 

_P: Text me back Katsuki I’m dying over here_

 

Yuuri shook his head, mildly amused at how well his best friend could read his mind.

 

A car horn honked outside, and Yuuri got up, the edges of his vision spinning a little bit.  His fingers were still tingling as well, but otherwise he felt like he had control

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she waved Yuuri off, and he stalked out into the car, trying to compose himself.

 

_Don’t yell at Viktor he didn’t mean it_

 

_How could he do this without asking me, though?_

 

_What if people think that I’m too easy, now, or that the relationship it unprofessional.  What if they judge me for it?  What if the public hates us together?_

 

_What if the JSF cites me on the relationship…_

 

“Yuuri, you’re zoning out,” Mari warned, glancing at him.  “You haven’t said a word this whole ride.  Talk to me.”

 

“It’s Viktor,” Yuuri grit out.  “He did something without asking me.”

 

Mari sighed.  “Sounds like him.  It probably wasn’t meant in any way.”

 

“Yeah, well, it still hurt.”

 

Mari was staring carefully ahead of her.  “Did you make that appointment with your psychiatrist yet, Yuuri?”

 

“What!?” Yuuri yelled, exasperated, but quickly dialed it back.  “What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“You said you would after the other day,” her tone was carefully controlled, if a little tired.  

 

“I’ve been fine,” Yuuri countered, crossing his arms and staring out the window.  

 

“Yeah, but you weren’t.  You need to make that appointment, or I’ll make it for you.”

 

They drove in silence the rest of the way.  Once they were at the onsen Yuuri hopped out of the car, storming through the main dining area.

 

Viktor was in the kitchen, of course, pointing at different items with Hiroko and showing off how his kitchen vocabulary was coming together.

 

Once he saw him, the world stopped.  He was about to… scream at Viktor... when his boyfriend was having such a nice time with his mother…

 

His breathing slowed down a little, and Viktor suddenly caught sight of him, brightening up.  “Yuuri, come see!  Your mother and I just finished making pot pies!”

 

Most of them were out with the customers, but there were still a few on the stove, the crusts perfectly brown.

 

Yuuri’s stomach rumbled.  “Viktor, can I talk to you a minute?”

 

His tone was strained, and Viktor nodded, touching Hiroko’s arm.  The woman frowned at her son.  “Is everything alright, Yuuri?”

 

“Yeah,” he responded quickly, forcing a smile that his mother would probably see right through, “It’ll be quick.”

 

The Russian man followed him into one of the private living quarters, and Yuuri held out his hand.

 

“Can I see your phone?”

 

Viktor’s face screwed up in confusion.  “Why?  Is this about the picture I took of you yesterday asleep?  If you saw me looking at it in my defense…”

 

Momentarily distracted, Yuuri remembered why he was there, noting that he would have to have a separate conversation with Viktor about asking before snapping a photo.  

 

“It’s the post.”

 

Viktor’s lips pursed in confusion.  Then he remembered, hands coming together.  “Didn’t you look so hot?  I was very proud…”

 

“Delete it.”

 

The words made the whole room drop five degrees.  Viktor’s face went from excited to unreadable.

 

“Oh, I see.”

 

Yuuri’s throat became thick.  “You understand, right?”

 

Viktor tapped around on his phone for a minute in silence, and showed Yuuri the post, which already had over a thousand likes in one hour, and pressed “delete”

 

“There, better?”

 

Yuuri could barely contain his relief before Viktor moved past him out of the room.  “Viktor, what…”

 

“I was having a lovely time with your mother.  It’s time I got back to that.”

 

His voice was like ice, and Yuuri was momentarily dumbfounded as to why he was left out in the cold.

  


***

  


The midnight hour in Ice Castle was always Yuuri’s favorite.

 

There was something about the way the sounds would echo around him after jumps, how the long shadows felt like he was skating through the climax of a fairy tale.  It was quiet, too, quiet enough that the music in his head was almost real enough to fill the whole room.

 

He skated his feelings; laid everything out on the ice.  His frustration was a furious and hurried step sequence, his confusion as to where things went wrong was a careful and elegant spin.

 

Yuuko appeared on the edge at some point, and Yuuri stopped, confused.

 

“What are you…”

 

She pointed at the exit, and Yuuri cursed silently that the red light was on.  He forgot to disable the security system when he came in.

 

“No worries, once I checked the cameras I knew it was you and didn’t call the cops,” she pulled her jacket tighter around her.  “Rough night?”

 

Yuuri sighed, deflating.  “I fucked up with a lot of people.”

 

“You never were someone to do something halfway.  It was all or nothing with you, always.”

 

She leaned over the divider as he skated up to her, and fixed him with a pointed look.  “I knew things were bad when you got back.  Should I be worried, Yuuri?”

 

The dark-haired man sighed, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes in frustration.  “It’s been hard, and people keep trying to help me, and I’m trying to let them but sometimes I put my foot in my mouth.”

 

She nodded, her bright eyes meeting his.  “Are you going to the festival on Saturday?”

 

Yuuri balked.  “What…”

 

“The founder’s festival!  The elementary school is putting it on.  The triplets are doing a ring toss.  There will be fireworks and a bonfire and a few local businesses are setting up tents by the school.  It’ll be just like when we were kids.  Remember our booth?”

 

The memory flooded over Yuuri, a comforting one, of him and Yuuko doing a psychic reading booth, where they gave fake fortunes to everyone who came by.  They had spent days sprawled out on Yuuko’s floor with crayons and construction paper, using the dictionary to get all the words just right.

 

“Takeshi trashed our crystal ball,” Yuuri said with a laugh, remembering the cellophane mess that they had thrown together that the young Takeshi had smashed into the dirt, prompting Yuuko to cry and Yuuri to punch Takeshi in the face.

 

“He always said that you punching him that day is what made him decide he liked you,” her tone was teasing, but she smiled warmly, saying, “Come.  Bring Viktor, support the local tents and the triplets.  I’m not sure it will fix anything, but it’ll give you two something to look forward to.”

 

He hadn’t realized how much he’d calmed down just reminiscing with his oldest friend, before he leaned over the divider and crushed her in a hug.

 

Yuuri normally wasn’t the touching type, but Yuuko had always been one of the exceptions.  They’d been friends for so long, that it didn’t even phase him

 

She patted him on the back, holding him tightly.  “It will be okay.  You can fix this.  Just don’t be afraid to beg a little bit.”

 

Laughing, Yuuri tightened his grip on her suddenly.  “I’ll remember that.”

  


***

  


The next morning, Yuuri went out early on a run, and came back with two presents.

 

The first was an appointment card from his psychiatrist’s office for Friday.  He handed it to his sister, who nodded and accepted it.  Yuuri knew that that would be the end of it.

 

The next one he stood outside Viktor’s door with, fidgeting before knocking three times.

 

He heard Makkachin bark, and Viktor came to the door, still sleep mussed but already dressed for the day.  His silver hair wasn’t brushed and stood up in funny tufts atop his head.  

 

When he saw Yuuri, his expression immediately closed off, his eyes saying a thousand things that Yuuri couldn’t understand.  

 

He pulled the bouquet out from behind his back, five roses of different colors tied together in a silver bow.  Viktor’s eyes widened and his breath caught, reaching out and touching one of the petals.

 

“I overreacted yesterday.  I was under a lot of stress and shouldn’t have taken it out on you.  You’re perfect.”

 

Viktor nodded, looking a little confused, but still closed off.

 

Trembling a little at the lack of response, Yuuri added, “I should have discussed going public with you before then.  I just didn’t want anyone to think you only coached me because we’re together.  That would…”

 

Viktor gasped, hand snaking out and touching Yuuri’s shoulder, eyes narrowing.  “That’s… that’s why?”

 

Panicked, Yuuri’s eyes widened, dipping his head.  “ _Hai_.”

 

“I… I thought…” Viktor laughed suddenly, tears forming in his eyes, gently taking the bouquet from Yuuri’s hands and breathing in the scent of the fresh cut flowers.  “I thought you were ashamed because you weren’t out to the public.”

 

“I… what?” It was Yuuri’s turn to laugh, this time with relief.  “Why would I ever be ashamed of you.  You’re _Viktor Nikiforov_.  I’m the luckiest person in the world to be with you.”

 

Viktor leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Yuuri’s lips, smiling now.  “We should fight more often.  I could always use more fresh flowers.”

 

Yuuri visibly paled at that, and Viktor bit his lip.

 

“Maybe not,” he agreed, lacing his fingers with Yuuri’s.  “We aren’t skating today, right?  We’re doing a workout then you’re going to Minako’s?”

 

“That’s right.  Guide me, coach.  We’ve got to get to the gym and chase those gains.”

 

Viktor groaned.  “You’ll be the death of me, Yuuri Katsuki.”

 

_And you’re the life in me, Viktor Nikiforov._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Yuuri is adorable as all hell. Also, for all you people who are interested in exploring Viktor's depression, I've sown the seeds all over the place. We just have to wait for them to grow.
> 
> If you're bored and/or like my writing, go check out my other fic titled "The Picture of Yuri Plisetsky" about an eighteen-year-old Yuri who is dealing with homophobia from his family and his lingering feelings for a certain brooding skater we all know and love.
> 
> Next up: psychotropic meds suck but Viktor makes a cute mask
> 
> As always I love feedback. Drop a kudos or a comment and you'll make my whole day<3


	8. Silver Ring Toss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri has to deal with some unfortunate side effects of a new medication. Later, Viktor and him enjoy a day at a festival, and get blindsided by the triplets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hi hello!
> 
> This chapter deals with some necessary follow-ups as well as some pleasant fluff. I just love writing for these dorks. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of psychotropic medications as well as self-harm and anxiety. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Have them bring a fuzzy blanket. Sit under the fuzzy blanket with the loved one and watch a fun movie. Repeat until you have all your loved ones, all the blankets, and you've watched all the movies.
> 
> As usual, I don't own Yuri! on Ice, but bless those who do

  
  


On Friday, Yuuri’s heels were bouncing in the waiting room. 

 

Mari had driven him, insisting that it wasn’t out of her way, though he knew it was because she wanted to make sure he went.

 

“Dr. Yamara will see you now,” the secretary said smoothly, crossing her stilletto-clad legs under the modern, glass desk.

 

_ You can do this.  Come on. _

 

The office was comfortable enough.  Dr. Yamara particularly enjoyed the color purple, and most everything in the office was some shade of it.  Dr. Yamara shook Yuuri’s hand, looking at him with interest from behind her horn-rimmed spectacles.  

 

“It’s nice to see you again, Yuuri.  I was surprised to get your name today.  You seemed very adamant against changing your medications last I saw you.”

 

Yuuri nodded, fidgeting in his seat, fingers swirling together.  “I, um, I had a relapse of self injury.”

 

“Ah,” the doctor flipped open her notebook, jotting something down.  “When did this happen?”

 

“About a week or so ago?”

 

Her eyes darted up.  “We discussed last time that you’re supposed to call me or go to the emergency room if you have the urge again.  What happened to that plan?”

 

_ I agreed to it without really wanting to. _

 

“It seemed… excessive,” he said slowly, wincing at his own terminology.

 

Dr. Yamara frowned, biting her pen between her teeth really quickly as she studied him.  “You think that maintaining your own personal safety is… excessive?”

 

_ Wow, when you say it like that… _

 

“Yuuri, I’m concerned for you.  You have a history of self injury, disordered eating, and severe panic attacks.  Have you given any thought to finding a therapist that you could see regularly?”

 

He had, he had even looked a few up the last time his anxiety was over the top, but then it calmed down.  Then Viktor had shown up, he just said that he didn’t have time to look for one.

 

The thought of spilling his secrets to a stranger made him cringe.  

 

He thought about how worried Viktor and Mari had been, and how much Phichit had given of his own well-being to keep Yuuri from doing anything foolish.

 

“I… I’d be willing to try it.”

 

“Great,” she shuffled through some papers on her desk, handing him a short list.  “These are all covered by your insurance.  If any of them works out, give them my name so the two of us can coordinate your care.”

 

Yuuri nodded, glancing down the list, taking note of the addresses closest to the onsen.

 

“Now, you’re on an SSRI, right?”

 

Yuuri nodded.  

 

“I explained to you last time that everyone’s body is different, and that’s why there are so many drugs that help with these conditions.  Some of them work better for people than others.  I’m going to start you a different SSRI.”

 

Yuuri froze up.  “I’m in training though.  What if I have bad side effects?  It could hamper my performance…”

 

Putting her hand up, the doctor peered at Yuuri over her glasses.  “What’s the phrase on the plaque outside of my office?”

 

Yuuri blinked.  He’d never paid that much attention before.  She sighed, hopping up and ducking out of the room.  There was the sound of something scraping against the wall, and then she was walking back in with an artful plaque that must have been made by one of her previous patients.

 

“ _ There’s always time for your mental health _ .”

 

“Precisely.  You aren’t competing right now, right?  I would understand if competitions were around the corner, but you’re only in practices.  If the side effects are too much we’ll consider other options.  Deal?”

 

Yuuri nodded glumly, and she jotted some more things down on her paper.

 

“Do you have a strong support system?”

 

At that, Yuuri brightened up.  “Yeah.  The best.”

 

Dr. Yamara grinned.  “I’m glad.  Don’t forget to spend time with them and let them help you.  They’re your best resource, remember that.”

  
  


***

  
  


When Yuuri collapsed onto Viktor’s bed next to the older skater, Viktor poked at his shoulder.  

 

“Look!  Mila took a video of Yuri doing Agape for me to see!  Help me shred it to pieces.”

 

Yuuri glanced up at Viktor, whose face went from excited to sad.  “Rough appointment?”

 

“I’m on new meds,” he said, dejected.  “I don’t know how I’ll react and I’m… scared.”

 

Viktor laid down next to him, pulling the younger man to him so that Yuuri’s face was pressed into his chest.

 

“We’re still going to the festival tomorrow, right?”

 

Viktor pressed a kiss to the top of Yuuri’s head. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Spending time with you, seeing all our friends and enjoying delicious food?  It’ll be a dream come true.”

 

They focused on his free program that day, running the jumps and spins, and by the end of it Yuuri felt like he was on top of the world.  

 

He took his new prescription and fell asleep in his bed, wonderfully exhausted.

 

The next morning when Viktor woke him up, he groaned.

 

“Come on my litte Katsudon, we have to get some practice in if we’re going to support the little ones later.”

 

Yuuri sat up, blinking sleep back from his eyes, and immediately gagged, running for the bathroom.

 

There wasn’t anything on his stomach, so he writhed over the toilet for a minute and a half, barely able to catch his breath.  Viktor had rushed in after him, soothingly running his hand over his back, before whispering, “Is this a side effect?”

 

Yuuri groaned, leaning against the cool tile of the bathroom, feeling feverish.  “I… I don’t know.”

 

“I’m going to get your mother.  Practice can wait.”

 

Yuuri closed his eyes, trying to make the room stop spinning.

 

His mother was back in twenty minutes with Viktor, a tray of things with her that she brought into Yuuri’s room.  He walked gingerly in with her, sitting at the desk where she placed a small bowl of miso soup, crackers, and ginger ale.

 

“Eat, baby.  Viktor looked it up and he said that it’s normal to feel a little nauseous with your medication.  If you don’t feel better we’ll call your doctor, okay?”

 

Yuuri nodded glumly, taking a few careful bites of cracker.

 

“I’ll be in the kitchen.  Let me know if he needs anything else,” Hiroko touched Viktor’s arm gently, exchanging a meaningful glance with him.

 

The Russian excused himself for a minute and came back with his laptop, lounging on Yuuri’s bed while Yuuri ate through his snacks.  “When you’re done you can decide if you want to practice or not.”

 

The thought made Yuuri feel worse.  Missing a day of practice with Viktor meant falling behind everyone else.  It also meant that he was wasting the man’s time.

 

Yuuri kept nibbling at the crackers, and finally took a small sip of soup, the warmth soothing his throat.

 

Once he’d eaten all the soup, a few crackers, and some of the ginger ale, he stood up, assessing how he felt.  

 

“Yuuri?”

 

“I… I want to try to practice,” Yuuri said confidently, though his face was still flushed and there was still sweat on his brow.

 

Viktor frowned, putting his laptop down.  “We don’t have to.  We could just cuddle, instead.”

 

Yuuri huffed, smiling.  He had forgotten, that he wasn’t wasting Viktor’s time.  Viktor enjoyed spending time with him, against all logic and reason.

 

“I want to try.  If I can’t we can come home and cuddle.”

 

“Great!” Viktor beamed.  “We’ll have Mari drive us, though.  I don’t want you running like this.”

 

Thirty minutes later they were on the ice, and they kept it simple, marking his jumps and working through his programs little bit by little bit, giving him plenty of time to relax in between.  

 

They got an hour before Yuuri started to feel like himself again, the nausea almost completely gone.  He even felt good enough by the end to run his free skate through once with jumps, and managed to do it perfectly. 

 

“That looked great, Yuuri!  That’s only a week’s work, imagine what we can do with the next few months!”

 

Yuuri was smiling ear to ear.  They left the rink and showered off, soaking in the onsen for a while before donning their street clothes and walking towards the elementary school.

 

At three on a Saturday the area was usually quiet, but with the festival it was clamoring with life.  Children were yelling out about their booths, water balloons were being thrown, and the smell of all the food wafted over to the two skaters, whose mouths started watering.

 

Viktor and Yuuri got crepes and wandered around, eventually finding a booth where two kids were playing the cello together, faces screwed up in concentration.  They stopped in front of them for a few moments, nibbling at their food.  Viktor even took a bite out of Yuuri’s crepe, to which Yuuri gasped.

 

“Yours looks better, though,” Viktor pouted, and Yuuri laughed, holding his crepe to the other side of him and away from Viktor’s reach, when he felt someone move it.

 

“Hey…” Yuuri turned around to see that Minako had taken a bite, her eyes mischievous.  

 

“How are you supposed to keep that weight off if you eat like this?  I’m doing you a favor,” she took another bite for good measure, and Yuuri rolled his eyes.

 

“Do you know where the girls’ ring toss booth is?”

 

Minako pointed towards the water, where a crowd of people were standing around.

 

“Wow, it looks popular…”

 

“It would be,” Minako jabbed Yuuri in the side affectionately.  “You were nice for letting them use lessons with you as the grand prize.”

 

Viktor raised his eyebrows at Yuuri, who choked on his crepe.

 

“I didn’t agree…” he said, wandering over to the girl’s booth, spellbound.

 

“Step right up!  Win five in a row and you win a free private skate lesson with none other than our local celebrity Yuuri Katsuki!”

 

One of his neighbors nudged the person they were with.  “Hey, there’s Katsuki now!”

 

There was a clamor as Yuuri fought to get to the front of the group.  Once Loop caught his eyes, she muttered, “Uh-oh, busted…”

 

Lutz and Axel gasped, quickly covering up the sign that read “Free Lessons with Yuuri Katsuki”, the three of them smiling innocently up at him.

 

“Wanna play ring toss?” Axel offered, “You can play for free…”

 

Viktor had caught up to them though, smiling at the crowd.  “I’d like to add a second grand prize of a free lesson with me as well!  Two Grand Prix finalists for the price of one!”

 

The girls shrieked, whipping out their phones and starting to alert social media.  More people wandered over to the booth, and Viktor steered Yuuri away from the crowd. 

 

Yuuri was completely at a loss.

 

“Better?”

 

Yuuri sighed once they weren’t around so many people.  “They didn’t even…”

 

“Hey,” Viktor got his attention.  “Does it matter?  It’s one afternoon.  We can spare one afternoon.  It’s important that you maintain your fanbase.  People look up to you.”

 

Yuuri couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t admit that he didn’t think he deserved a fan base at all

 

Viktor nudged him, and the two of them made their way around the block, stopping at each booth.  They got quite a few arts and crafts.  Viktor was very excited over the color-your-own-mask station, and started coloring in the dog immediately.  Yuuri grabbed a bunny and started working on his, but found himself watching Viktor instead.  The older man’s tongue stuck out while he colored, and his eyes scanned the colors carefully, selecting his next one.

 

Yuuri could imagine little Viktor, very focused on his task at hand.  

 

“How do I look?” the Russian finally asked, holding the popsicle stick with the mask up, and Viktor had made a near perfect Makkachin.  Yuuri laughed, holding up his own attempt at a bunny, and Viktor gushed, taking a picture of them together with their masks on.

 

“I won’t hashtag anything revealing,” Viktor assured his boyfriend, setting to work on his post as Yuuri looked around.

 

They spent the rest of the day wandering.  At some point, Viktor excitedly bought the cotton candy, and they sat off on a bench to the side, where it was less public, and spent the next ten minutes feeding it to each other.

 

“I hate us right now,” Yuuri grumbled, letting the sugar melt on his tongue.

 

“We’re the worst,” Viktor agreed, opening his mouth for more.

 

Just before sunset, they found Yuuko and Takeshi, who had collected the girls from their booth and were apologizing profusely for the mix-up with the lesson.

 

“Don’t worry.  It’s just an afternoon,” Yuuri said, glancing back at Viktor, who was smiling proudly at him.

 

They had a blanket, and they all walked down to the beach, settling into the sand and talking through Yuuko’s youngest skate class.  “They’re all still learning figures, and there’s this one little jerk who keeps trying jumps.  He’d really good, but if he falls his parents will murder me.  It’s supposed to be a  _ basics _ class…”

 

“Look!” Viktor gasped, grabbing at Yuuri’s hand and pointing over the waves.

 

The small boats that were out over the water had started setting off the fireworks, lighting up the night sky with greens and blues and reds.  Viktor’s eyes were wide, and his smile faded until he was staring in awe.  Yuuri thought, briefly, that there was something else going on behind the surface, but elected to let it be.

 

Yuuri was probably just overthinking things, anyway.

 

The girls were busy taking live videos of the fireworks for their instagram and blog pages, and Takeshi let them take turns on his shoulders to get a better view.

 

Viktor’s hand on Yuuri’s squeezed, and Yuuri squeezed back, until he realized that Viktor was tightening his grip further.

 

“Viktor?”

 

The Russian didn’t look away from the display, but asked breathily, “You’ll stay with me, right, Yuuri?”

 

“Of course.”

 

He leaned against Yuuri’s shoulder, silver hair falling against his dark shirt in sharp contrast.  “Promise?”

 

“Where is this coming from?”

 

“Promise.”

 

Yuuri pressed a soft kiss to his hair, grateful that everyone was too busy looking at the fireworks to notice.

 

“Promise.”

 

They stayed like that, all the colors of the rainbow reflecting in their eyes.  It was one of those moments that anyone who looked at them would have found incredibly breathtaking.  Two dorks in love, completely enraptured in the moment, would have that effect on people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> If you're in this for the smut, there will be some next time, promise! We'll also finally get to see Yurio soon.
> 
> However, if you really want to get your angry kitten fix in, take a look at my other fic, "The Picture of Yuri Plisetsky," about an eighteen-year-old Yuri who struggles with his family's homophobia and his lingering feelings for our favorite skater from Kazakhstan 
> 
> Also, I love feedback like Otabek loves brooding. Let me know what you think in the comments! I'd like to know what you want to see more of so I can include it moving forward


	9. Silver Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri experiences another side effect, which leads to him resorting to unconventional methods to fall asleep. Later, Viktor gives Yuuri a choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey howdy friends!
> 
> It's been a whole two days. I have shown remarkable self control, I think. 
> 
> I want to thank all of the wonderful people who have provided feedback and subscribed to the story. All of you are incredible and it makes my heart soar to know that my writing has reached you. 
> 
> So I think this is going to be a series? I've planned out a few different stories. I'm unsure exactly when this one will end or the next one begins. Honestly, this story is kind of it's own monster. I'll let you know when I know.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter deals with explicit sexual content as well psychotropic medication. If this fic makes you start to feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Google your favorite color and look up all the cool things you can buy in that color. Watch a sitcom. Organize your closet. Unless looking at your closet is like looking at a great big clothing black hole. Then organize your spice cabinet.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice, probably because if I was steering the ship it would become a mental health awareness porno.

It was two in the morning.

 

Yuuri was staring at his ceiling, mind thrumming with life, refusing to shut down.

 

At one in the morning he looked up that insomnia was also a side effect of his new meds.

 

At one thirty he started asking “what if”.

 

_ What if Viktor only came here because he was bored? _

 

_ What if my meds keep messing with my training schedule? _

 

_ What if I’m not good enough to win? _

 

_ What if Viktor is… insecure. _

 

The thought had never occurred to him.  His idol, insecure in anything?  But the way that he had looked today, the way that he clutched at Yuuri, led him to believe that something was up.

 

_ What if it was…? _

 

An idea came to him all at once, a plan in place.  For a moment he wondered if he should, but then he reasoned that anything was better than staring at his ceiling, anyway.

 

_ I want to do this, for him.  For me, too.   _

 

Yuuri moved down the hallway quietly, reaching Viktor’s room and opening his door gently.

 

The Russian was just a dark blob, until Yuuri turned on his desk lamp.  The room was barely illuminated by it, just a small spotlight that revealed dust, suspended in animation in the air, and Viktor.

 

Yuuri was grateful that his boyfriend had slept through his moving around, because the sight was too precious.  He just stood there, rocking back on his heels, breath hitching as he took the Russian in, tangled in the sheets, his bare chest rising and falling with sleep, his face so peaceful and innocent, silver hair tangled around his face.

 

Yuuri didn’t think he’d ever get enough of looking at him, but eventually he moved on the bed, waking Makkachin, who huffed and hopped down onto her doggy bed in frustration.

 

Viktor stirred then, turning his face towards Yuuri.  His eyes opened a crack, muttering, “Yuuri…”

 

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning down and kissing his boyfriend.

 

“What are you doing up?”

 

The younger man’s fingers started tracing patterns on Viktor’s bare chest, and the other man sucked in his breath at the sensation.

 

“I couldn’t sleep.  I wanted to make you feel good.”

 

Eyes still glaring through hooded lids, he asked, “What do you…”

 

Yuuri’s fingers pinched Viktor’s nipple suddenly, and the Russian gasped at the sensation, eyes finally widening.  

 

The puzzle pieces fell together, and Viktor stuttered, “You mean…?”

 

Nodding, Yuuri took a moment to straddle the Russian, bracketing his prone figure with his shins, leaning back onto his heels so that he was hovering dangerously closely to Viktor’s crotch.  “Tell me what you want, Viktor.”

 

“What I want…” he was staring at Yuuri intently, eyes sparkling with an emotion that Yuuri couldn’t quite place.

 

Yuuri stared, wondering if he would ever really know what the older man was thinking.  It occurred to him that he hadn’t really given any thought to what Viktor wanted.  They’d been so focused on him for the last few days that Viktor’s needs had gone to the wayside.

 

Knowing that Viktor was still a little sleep-addled, he started rocking onto his heels in the movement that looked eerily like grinding, just above the blanket covering Viktor’s crotch.  

 

Biting his lip, Viktor whispered, “Mouth.  I want you to use your mouth.”

 

Yuuri leaned over him, catching the older man’s lips in a kiss, whispering, “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

 

“Fuck, Yuuri,” Viktor gasped as the younger man started peppering his chest with kisses, tongue tracing lewd lines down his pale abdomen.  Viktor shivered at the sensation, and Yuuri could swear that, for a moment, he saw Viktor shed a tear.

 

Yuuri pulled back the blankets and laughed a little bit, having forgot that Viktor usually slept completely in the nude.  His half-hard cock bobbed at the weight being thrown off it, and Yuuri gazed at it, taking it in.  

 

He didn’t really get to look at it for long when they’d used their hands, but now Yuuri hovered over it, like predator to prey.  Then he looked up at Viktor with a wry smile.  “You look delicious, babe.”

 

Viktor’s breathing quickened as he mumbled, “Yuuri…”

 

"I've imagined this so many times.  I've gotten off to this.  Even before you and I got to know each other.  The idea of having you completely at my mercy..."

 

Viktor gasped at the sensation of Yuuri's hot breath ghosting over his cock at the words, choking out, " _Yuuri..._ "

 

“Hmmm, you’re right, let’s get to it then,” and Yuuri pressed his lips to the tip, sending a new rush of sensation through Viktor.  

 

Viktor sobbed out a little at the feeling, and Yuuri  _ knew _ Viktor was crying now, and Yuuri looked up in concern before Viktor gasped, “God, don’t  _ stop _ .”

 

Grinning, Yuuri resumed his attention to the head, engulfing it between his lips and setting a gentle pace of his tongue against the slit.  

 

“Shit,” the older man gasped, “Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri hummed in response, sending vibrations through Viktor’s whole body that were unreal.

 

Yuuri then bobbed his head down, hollowing out his cheeks, and Viktor started bucking, pressing his forearm to his mouth to suppress his own whimpers.

 

Yuuri bobbed a few times before he swallowed the hardness down to the hilt, Viktor sobbing, “Yuuri, Yuuri, you feel so good,” before it dissolved into frantic Russian.

 

Yuuri alternated bobbing and sucking, his tongue tracing up the sides.

 

Viktor was writhing on the bed, his words lost in translation.  Yuuri loved the sensation of Viktor stretching his mouth, the closeness of the moment, the power her had over the other man.  He continued his movement, until  Viktor whispered, “Yuuri, I’m close…”

 

Yuuri hummed again, and the sensation made Viktor gasp before spilling into the younger man’s mouth.  

 

Yuuri continued sucking until Viktor gasped from the over-stimulation, and Yuuri fell onto the bed next to his boyfriend, pressing kisses to his hand.

 

“This is all just a dream, right?”

 

Yuuri chuckled.  “A really good dream, I think.”

 

Viktor looked at Yuuri, their eyes meeting, and for one heart-stopping moment Yuuri saw something, some longing that he couldn’t quite place, before it disappeared and Viktor pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead.

 

“Stay here?”

 

Yuuri nodded, shuffling closer to be Viktor’s big spoon.  Though the Russian was taller than Yuuri, he liked resting his cheek against the older man’s back. After a moment he pressed a feather-light kiss there, feeling sleepy for the first time all night.

 

“Goodnight, Viktor.”

 

“Goodnight, my love.”

 

The words didn’t have time to register before Yuuri drifted off into wonderful dreams, mostly having to do with a bunny and a dog having adventures under a glittering expanse of stars.

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri was up at seven in the morning, eyes cracking open in a flash when he remembered what was whispered to him the night before.

 

_ Goodnight, my love. _

 

Was that… was Viktor…

 

Yuuri was trying his best not to move, but he had forgotten why he hated cuddling.  His left arm was asleep, and his back hurt, but if he moved he risked waking up Viktor.  

 

_ Did he really say that?  Does that constitute an “I love you” or am I overreacting?  If it is, does that mean he wants me to say it back? _

 

Yuuri’s breath came out in a squeak, and he gently drew his arms away from Viktor, who rolled onto his stomach without waking.  Yuuri eased out of the bed.

 

As he pulled out an outfit to go on a run in, he thought back to all the time that he spent with Viktor.

 

He walked out into the brisk morning, seeing a bird flutter by, it’s feathers nearly the same color as Viktor’s hair, flying in excited circles.

 

They’d said it, hadn’t they?  Viktor had told Yuuri that pushing him was “how I show my love,” Yuuri had declared his theme for the season, “on my love”, so why…

 

Why does it feel like it was new, wonderful, and also completely terrifying?

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri was trying his best not to stare at Viktor during breakfast, but he couldn’t help it. He was hoping that he’d find some indicator there at whether the other man had really meant…

 

“I got a text from Yuri today.  He wants me to come back for a few days to Russia and work on his short program soon.”

 

Viktor’s tone was very neutral as he continued, “I’ve been helping him with videos but he wants one-on-one time with me.  I told him I needed to ask you.”

 

Yuuri’s hand froze, eggs falling off his fork.  “Can’t he come here?”

 

“Yakov won’t let him leave again,” Viktor said, studying Yuuri carefully.  “I can say no.”

 

Yuuri shook his head.  “No, that’s fine.  For that week I can always work with Minako and run the programs through with Yuuko.”

 

Viktor nodded, picking up his phone.    

 

They spent the day at the rink, then Yuuri was at Minako’s, dancing.  Viktor had said nothing to him as they parted at the rink.

 

When he got home at dinner time Viktor was laughing animatedly with Hiroko and Toshiya in piecemeal Japanese.  Yuuri leaned against the doorframe, watching Viktor’s face screw up in concentration as he tried to get a word out.  When Hiroko threw out a few English words, he shook his head, then started miming running.

 

Yuuri came up behind the Russian, placing his fingers on his shoulder.  Viktor looked up, bright, “Yuuri, I’m telling your parents about the first time Yakov saw me try a quad!  I wasn't supposed to and he chased me around the rink but I wouldn't stop doing it and he was so angry that Mila started sobbing that he was dying he was so red.”

 

Yuuri smiled, pressing a light kiss to his cheek.  “Sounds like you, forgetful and rebellious.”

 

Toshiya laughed, waving it off.  “ _ I’m sure it was fine.  You’re Viktor Nikiforov after all.” _

 

Viktor squinted his eyes, thinking over the words carefully before responding, “ _ not back then.  Back then I was just an idiot kid who…”  _ Viktor was thoughtful for a moment, pointing at his heart, then brightened back up when he remembered, “ _ gave Yakov’s heart doctor a lot of stress.” _

 

Yuuri was stunned.  “Your Japanese is getting better.”

 

“Mari helped me translate the story,” Viktor said, “we went over it a few times before I came to dinner.”

 

Yuuri’s heart stuttered.  He’s trying so hard to be a part of Yuuri’s life.  Was Yuuri worth the trouble?

 

_ Yes  _ he thought defiantly,  _ you are. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading<3 Next chapter kind of goes back to the serious side for a little bit. I will provide a summary version of the chapter in the end notes in case you find it too triggering, so please prepare for the possibility of skipping. The summary will have everything you need to know for the next chapter.
> 
> If you like this fic, you can always go check out my other fic, The Picture of Yuri Plisetsky, about an eighteen-year-old Yuri who has rich homophobic grandparents and a huge lingering crush on his favorite glove biter.


	10. Silver Padlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor does something that sets Yuuri back over the edge. Mari makes a hard decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves!
> 
> This chapter is a rough one. I can't say too much without giving it away. If you're worried about it being too triggering, at any point refer to the end notes for a summary. Speaking of...
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING***: references to self harm, as well as suicidal ideation and anxiety attacks. If at any point this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Write down everything you're feeling in a journal. Then, in that same journal, list out all of the things that make you happy, pick one, and get to work making it happen.
> 
> As usual, I don't own Yuri! on Ice, no matter how much I wish I did

Yuuri was on his phone in his room when a knock came on his door.

 

It was Viktor, who was smiling brightly at him in his robe.  “Sleepover?”

 

Yuuri laughed, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Viktor’s temple.  “Would you hate me if I said no?”  

 

Viktor blinked, pouting.  “But whyyyy?”

 

“I have to send some emails tonight.  I have some therapists to contact and see what their availabilities are.”

 

Viktor’s face screwed up.  “I thought that's where you went on Friday?”

 

“That was a psychiatrist, she prescribes me medication.  A therapist is someone you talk things out with.  My psychiatrist gave me a list of names that I have to get through, and I know that if I'm with you I won't be focusing on that,” Yuuri’s eyes flicked down to the place where the Russian’s robes parted, “at all.”

 

Viktor’s face changed.  It was just a second; a flash more than a look, before he was nodding, face unreadable.  “Alright then.  Goodnight, love.”

 

Viktor leaned forward and kissed Yuuri, willful and lingering, fingers tightening on Yuuri’s forearm until it was almost painful.  Yuuri watched his boyfriend disappear down the hall, his own fingers tracing the red hand print forming on his skin.

  
  


***

  
  


It wasn't just in his head, right?  

 

As he sent out his fifth email of the night, copying and pasting the necessary information and forming an introduction and signature, he wondered what Viktor's weird behavior meant.  

 

Closing his laptop, he changed into sleeping clothes and wandered down the hall, popping his head into Viktor’s room, frowning when he saw Makka fast asleep on her bed, but no Viktor.

 

Anxiety started thrumming through his veins.  Where was he?  He checked the kitchen, nothing.  Checked the dining room: just a few guests straggling with a bottle of sake, watching a soccer match.

 

It was when he wandered out to the baths that he saw Viktor, the only one left outside.  The Russian was wearing an expression that Yuuri had never seen before, eyes glazed over, lips drawn.

 

Yuuri was about to strip and shower off to join the other man, but paused when he saw Viktor slip under the water.

 

Bemused, Yuuri wandered into the locker room, quickly shedding his clothes and showering off.  

 

When he got back to the baths, he saw a few bubbles hovering on the surface, but no Viktor still.

 

Yuuri waited for him to come back up, panic starting to seep into his veins.

 

The bubbles that were above Viktor had all popped, and through the steaming water Yuuri couldn't tell what was the grey bottom of the baths and what was Viktor.

 

Yuuri ran over, gasping, mind spinning out of control with images of Viktor, that same expression on his face, sinking to the bottom of the ocean.  Once he caught sight of a flash of silver hair, he plunged his arms in, dragging the other man up.  

 

Viktor broke the surface of the water, wiggling and gasping, trying to get out of Yuuri’s grasp, but the younger man just pulled harder until the back of Viktor’s legs scraped up the back of the concrete edge of the bath, both of them spluttering and breathing heavily.

 

Viktor’s silver hair was damp, plastered against his face as he stared up at the sky.  Yuuri was on his side next to him, trying to fight his throat threatening to close up.

 

“Why did you bring me up?”

 

Yuuri swore he must have misheard.  His breathing was becoming more erratic.     
  


 

“Wh… what?”

 

Viktor looked over at Yuuri, and it was like there was no one home.  His glassy eyes reflected the lights coming from the inn the way a doll’s would.  

 

“I was fine,” Viktor said calmly.  “I just wanted to see how long I could hold my breath.”

 

Yuuri sat up, water starting to drip off his arms, leaving a spattering of darker stone beneath him.  There were no other sounds than the shushing of the water from the waterfall and the singing of the crickets as the Japanese man stared at his boyfriend.

 

Viktor sat up too, and somewhere in the transition he managed to pull up a tight smile an unreadable expression; a robot changing its setting.

 

“Don’t you have to email therapists?”

 

Yuuri was at a loss.  “You… I finished,” he said lamely, and Viktor nodded.

 

“Okay.  You wanted to soak in the hot spring.  I guess I’ll just head to bed.”

 

Viktor stood, avoiding Yuuri’s eyes, but Yuuri’s whole body reacted suddenly, latching onto Viktor’s arm.

 

“You, um, there’s blood.”

 

Viktor looked down at the back of his legs, and there were shallow scrapes there; the blood was mingling with water to create a pink dribble.

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

Yuuri was staring at the blood though, his mind chaotic in trying to figure out what had happened, and there was  _ blood _ , smooth, mesmerizing rivulets...

 

The singular, wanting desire came back.  He wanted to feel what Viktor was feeling, the singing, aching rush, the euphoria as endorphins rushed through his bloodstream, the satisfaction of a quiet mind, if only for a few moments.

 

Viktor headed towards the locker room, and Yuuri’s ears were ringing.

 

Everything was moving really slowly.  Yuuri knew that relapses reset your self control basically back to zero,  but he hadn’t realized just how real that was.  A few weeks ago he would have been able to talk himself through it, but right now his brain just wasn’t having it.  

 

His feet were moving, following Viktor, but by time he drifted into the locker room, his boyfriend had already exited.  Yuuri toweled off, easing back into his clothes, brain running on one track nonstop directly for…

 

...he was in the kitchen in moments, fingertips tracing the tiles on the walls as he wandered towards the cabinet, until…

 

…his fingers tugged at the padlock that was fastened there now, starting to shake, feeling desperate.  Mari must have done it.  He started wondering where he could find something else, anything else to end the spinning  _ something’s wrong with Viktor I don’t know what’s happening he won’t talk to me what the hell do I do he’s my coach do I even really know him what if he leaves what if I did the wrong thing pulling him up he looked upset something’s wrong with… _

 

Yuuri was moving quickly now, managing his breathing by going categorically through his head where the nearest sharp objects would be.  All of the kitchen utensils were locked up, but there were razors in the bathroom…

 

...when he got to his bathroom and opened up the cabinet, his eyes widened.  His razor was gone.

 

He didn’t have to shave too often, but on the rare occasion he did, he had an electric razor.

 

It had been taken.

 

Panic was starting to seize his chest.  There was so much pent up anguish and he just wanted to  _ write it on his skin _ …

 

…he was outside of Mari’s private bathroom.  His sister was out with friends tonight.  He went to open the door…

 

... it was locked.

 

“Fuck,” he whispered, leaning against the door, fist pounding on the wood.  “Fuck…”

 

Tears were streaming down his face.  He just wanted it to stop: the spinning thoughts, his breath rushing, his heart racing…

 

Before he knew it, he was in the back room.

 

There were box cutters here, for when the onsen got shipments.  There were boxes piled high with extra napkins, garbage bags, mop heads.  Yuuri moved through the room like a ghost, eyes flicking around, until they settled upon the blue handle.

 

_ No, that won’t be clean… _ Yuuri’s brain stopped him, hand shaking over the handle, searching around on the bench for the extra blades.  

 

_ Where is it where is it where is it… _

 

The search was becoming frantic, until he tossed aside rubber gloves, and there the tiny blue box was.  He was eerily calm as he opened it, taking out one of the clean blades, seeing the reflection of his eyes in the metal.

 

He looked calm, too.  His eyes, previously darting and frantic, had settled and focused on the task at hand.

 

He pulled down his sweats and underwear to his thigh, fingers tracing the healing lines already there, and wondered…

 

...his mind flashed to the image of Viktor’s face, angry,  _ “How could you…?” _

 

He dropped the blade like it was on fire, backing up so quickly that he knocked into a few of the stacks of boxes, them teetering unsteadily.

 

“No,” he said out loud, his mental image locked on Viktor’s anguished face when he saw the marks the first time.  They were revisiting Viktor’s soft lips feathering over the marks in love and acceptance.

 

_I can't..._

 

Hollow with the victory, he fled from the room.

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri was sitting on the front porch as Mari walked up thirty minutes later, face unreadable.

 

“Where?” she asked simply, hand on her hip, stomping out her cigarette on the walkway.

 

“The store room.  The box cutters.”

 

Nodding, she moved past him into the onsen, the ashes from the cigarette still glowing a little, not completely out.

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, mind buzzing, Mari asleep on the futon next to his bed.

 

The next morning, when she woke up at six, she found him in exactly the same state that she’d left him.

 

“You didn’t sleep,” she said simply, and he didn’t respond at first; just flicked his gaze to her.  

 

“Side effect,” he said glumly, rubbing his itchy eyes.

 

“Right.  I’ll go get Viktor…”

 

Yuuri sat up quickly.  “Not Viktor.”

 

She stretched in her pajamas, band t-shirt riding up past her navel.  “I didn’t realize you were okay with mom and dad taking the day off to watch you.”

 

The intention wasn’t to guilt Yuuri, but he felt it anyway.  

 

“Alright, then you’re with me for the day.  We’re starting with washing out the baths.”

 

Yuuri changed robotically, pulling on a pair of ratty sweatpants.  He hadn’t washed the baths out in years, but his mind was relishing in the thought of doing something so mundane and methodological.

 

Yuuri followed Mari to her room and waited outside while she got changed, and then they were in the store room, taking out all the cleaning supplies they would need, and Yuuri’s eyes wandered to the workbench. There was a new padlock on one of the drawers.

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri was stirring his oatmeal, watching the cinnamon lines he was drawing in the breakfast, as Mari said calmly, “your psychiatrist would be up by now.”

 

He winced.  “I’m fine now.  It’s not a big deal…”

 

Mari slammed her own spoon down on the table, snatching Yuuri’s from his hand and holding the dripping breakfast up to him.  “Fine, then.  Eat this.”

 

Yuuri’s brain was short circuiting.  The thought of eating anything made his stomach feel like it was full of battery acid.  

 

“You call them, or I will.”

 

Nose crinkling, he handed her his phone.  “It’s stupid.  Why would they care that I almost cut?  I didn’t do it.  I’d just be wasting their time.”

 

“Damnit, Yuuri,” she hissed, picking up the phone and scrolling through his contacts, “Your brain isn’t right, right now. Don’t you see that?  Doesn’t what you’re saying sound _off_?”

 

Bringing his knees up to his chest, he rested his chin on them.  “I don’t know.”

 

“If Phichit was here, what would he say?”

 

Yuuri closed his eyes.  “He’d say ‘Yuuri, get up and go to practice’.”

 

Mari narrowed her eyes.  “What time were you and Viktor starting today?”

 

“Ten.  He was letting me sleep in today.”

 

Mari glanced at the clock that read 8:45.  “He’s usually up by now, isn’t he?”

 

He was.  Viktor was up every morning, regardless of what time he went to bed, at seven thirty.

 

“Sometimes he takes Makkachin on a walk,” he said, uneasy.  Yuuri got up, Mari saying something about his breakfast but he ignored her, and wandered upstairs.

 

He knocked.

 

No answer.

 

Opening the door, he peered inside, and saw that Makkachin was still on her doggy bed, almost like she hadn’t moved at all.

 

No Viktor.

 

Yuuri was shaking again, legs unsteady.  The room was spinning.  

 

“Yuuri?”

 

The voice shattered his panic, making his breath catch.

 

“ _ Viktor _ ,” he breathed, tackling his boyfriend with a hug so hard that they stumbled a bit together, Viktor frozen in place.  

 

“Yuuri, are you alright?”

 

He was clutching onto the Russian.  “Where were you?”

 

Viktor responded to the hug finally, arms wrapping around Yuuri.  “On a run.”

 

He could feel it now, the sweat salty on his skin.  Yuuri found himself pressing his lips to his neck, tasting it, as if to get confirmation, from his last of his five senses, that the man was really here.

 

Viktor chuckled heavily, the sound reverberating through his whole body.  “If you just wanted to jump me, next time start with that.”

 

“Are you really here?”

 

“Yeah, Yuuri, what…”

 

He heard the footsteps behind Viktor, and Mari was watching Yuuri pointedly, walking towards him with his phone.

 

“It’s your doctor.  They want to speak with you.”

 

Viktor pulled back suddenly, and his eyes did a quick scan of Yuuri’s body, making the younger man step back, feeling like a subject.

 

Grabbing the phone from Mari’s hand, Yuuri choked out, “Yes?”

 

“Hi, Yuuri. Dr. Yamada.  Your sister explained what happened last night.  The clinic isn’t open today, but I can make an emergency house call.  How does thirty minutes from now sound?”

 

He nodded for a few seconds before he remembered that she wouldn’t be able to see his head move.  

 

“ _ Hai.” _

 

“See you then.”

 

The phone clicked off, and Yuuri met Viktor’s eyes, who was watching him like a time bomb.

 

“Yuuri, did you…”

 

It was the same face.  The same angry, panicked face that had caused Yuuri to stop.  Even after talking it through, even after Viktor promised he would be more understanding, there it was, like a scene from the highlight reel of Yuuri’s lowest moments.

 

“No,” he said quietly, avoiding eye contact.

 

Viktor sharply exhaled, fingers brushing his boyfriend’s wrist.  “Are you okay now?”

 

No.  Right now his brain had hopped back on the tracks, and he knows that everything is wrong right now, that Viktor gave him the look anyway, so  _ why didn’t I just do it it wouldn’t have made a difference now my doctor has to take time from her day off to see me it would have been easier if I hadn’t called Mari last night… _

 

Yuuri’s hands had balled into fists, eyes unfocused, and Mari put her hand on Viktor’s shoulder.  The older man backed up, and Mari moved forward, her voice unsteady. 

 

“Yuuri, you want to hurt yourself right now, don’t you?”

 

The accusation, no matter how accurate, made rage surge from somewhere  deep inside him, making him hiss, “No.”

 

“Don’t lie, kid  I know your tells.”

 

His resolve was crumbling.  The one track train of thought was slowing down, barely chugging along, until he snapped out of it completely, his sister’s dark eyes guiding him out of it.

 

“I… I need help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be out in the next few days! 
> 
> Hello, skipping friends! If you still feel bad even after just the summary, at the beginning of every chapter of my fics are a short list of coping skills or distracting activities. Please take advantage and maybe look up some of your own 
> 
> Summary for skipping:
> 
> Yuuri tells Viktor that he needs to work on finding a therapist, prompting Viktor to take a bath in the onsen alone. Yuuri finishes and heads out to the baths. He sees Viktor disappear under the water and not come back up. Yuuri drags him out, accidentally cutting Viktor in the process. Viktor is a bit of an ass about it and leaves Yuuri, who is really worried. Between seeing the blood and all the stress that Viktor just put him through, Yuuri seeks out a means of cutting. He tries a few spots to find something to cut with, but Mari had kept most of them locked. When he finally finds some way to hurt himself, he's reminded of Viktor's reaction last time and decides to stop before he starts, calling Mari to help him. The next morning, Mari calls Yuuri's psychiatrist for him, and Viktor is told that Yuuri almost hurt himself.
> 
> If you like this fic, check out my other fic, "The Picture of Yuri Plisetsky," about Yuri trying his best to get past his lingering feelings for Otabek while his homophobic family gives him hell. I've almost finished writing the whole thing! That one has a set 12 chapters.


	11. Silver Clipboards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri faces his demons and Mari and Viktor try their best to be there for him. Viktor denies that something is wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my humans <3
> 
> This chapter is mostly just providing a natural consequence to last chapter's events. I've written all the way through chapter 14 of this fic but want to write some more and do careful editing before I post anymore. Also, I need to give the novel I've been working on some love.
> 
> This chapter will review a lot of what happened in last chapter, so feel free to skip around if you need to. Put your own health and wellbeing first, always.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: direct references to self harm, anxiety, depression, and hospitalization. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Text your friend that you haven't seen in a while. Drink a lot of water. Make a cheesecake. Have you ever seen someone sad while making a cheesecake?
> 
> As usual, I don't own Yuri! on Ice, though I love it with all my heart

Viktor and Mari were sitting on either side of Yuuri on the couch, not touching him, as Hiroko guided Dr. Yamada into the private living room.

 

The doctor had on black leggings and a nice, summery blouse.  She could have been shopping, or out with her boyfriend.  Yuuri felt guilt sew his lips shut.

 

“Thank you,” she said to Hiroko.  “Are you staying?”

 

His mother shook her head.  “Yuuri asked that it just be them, and I respect his wishes.”

 

Viktor had been blindly scrolling through social media, and Mari had kept up a string of Japanese pop songs that she was singing off-key to fill the heavy silence.

 

They waited until Hiroko had left the room.  Then, Dr. Yamada pulled a pad of purple paper and a purple pen from her bag, setting her horn-rimmed glasses on her nose.

 

“Alright, Yuuri, how are you feeling right now?”

 

Yuuri searched through himself, and muttered, “Blank.”

 

Viktor stiffened next to him, and he found himself taking the other man’s hand to steady himself.  Viktor’s thumb brushed soothing lines down his wrist.

 

Writing that down, she peered at him again.  “Is this your partner?”

 

“My boyfriend, Viktor.  You’ve met Mari.”  

 

Dr. Yamada nodded, smiling at his sister.  “So, you felt comfortable going to your sister when you were feeling like hurting yourself, but not calling me or going to an emergency room?”

 

Yuuri glanced away from her.  “That’s correct.”

 

“That can be very dangerous, Yuuri.  It’s important to have someone to talk to, but what if your sister hadn’t answered her phone because she was busy?  You’d be pinning all your hopes on circumventing the urge on one person.  Imagine how she would feel, if she realized that she wasn’t there for you when you needed her?”

 

Mari had her lighter out now, twisting it around between her fingers.

 

Yuuri heard rushing in his ears: his own heartbeat.  “I don’t know.”

 

“You would have gone through with it, if she hadn’t answered?”

 

Yuuri closed his eyes, wanting to believe that he would have had the restraint, but his mind was just running through the scenario again, and every time he ended up hurting himself.

 

Huffing, Yuuri answered, “Yes.”

 

Viktor’s fingers on his boyfriend’s hand tightened.     
  


“What triggered this?”

 

_ Viktor looked like a stranger. _

 

“Viktor had accidentally cut himself on a rock coming out of the onsen.  I saw the blood, and it… I couldn’t get the idea out of my head.”

 

This time the Russian shot up, letting go of Yuuri, pacing as his fingers ran through his hair.

 

“Do you need a break, Viktor?”

 

The older man shook his head, not looking at Yuuri, sitting back down and resuming his hold on Yuuri’s hand, if tighter.

 

“It seems like you were very easily triggered.  This is likely due to your recent relapse.  However, this is twice now that you promised to call a professional and failed to do so.”

 

“But I didn’t do it…”

 

“It’s not the point.  Your line of thought went from seeing blood to wanting to cut.  You need to learn how to divert your thoughts to coping mechanisms.”

 

Yuuri knew what was coming next.  

 

“I’m going to recommend that you be hospitalized for a few days.  While you’re admitted we can work on your medication and get you an appointment with a therapist that can work on this process with you.  I won’t want you to leave until you have an appointment and can sign a waiver stating, definitively, that you do not plan on hurting yourself upon leaving.”

 

The breath punched out of Yuuri.  

 

Mari said quietly, “He can’t stay here?  We have padlocks on the sharps…”

 

Dr. Yamada narrowed her gaze, pausing in her writing.  “That was necessary?”

 

Mari quickly changed tracks, “No, I just did it as a protective measure…”

 

“It’s amazing that you are so willing to do things to keep your brother safe,” she said, smiling tightly.  “I think it’s good that you put those measures in place, but I want to create a situation where those aren’t necessary.”

 

Mari clutched the lighter then, flicking on the flame, then blowing it out.

 

“Yuuri, it’s up to you.”

 

Yuuri knew that what she was saying was right, on some level, which is the only reason he muttered, “Okay.  Where do I go from here?”

  
  


***

  
  


“This is stupid,” Yuuri mumbled, crossing his arms in the hospital room.  The nurse had taken his initial information and had said that they needed to get someone from psych down to do an assessment.

 

The nearest emergency room was thirty minutes from Hasetsu.  There was only one folding chair in the room with Yuuri, so Mari had taken it, flicking through the channels.

 

“I’m glad you think that your safety is stupid,” Viktor said darkly, looking out the window to the park down below.

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Yuuri sighed, though he knew that that was exactly what he meant.  It felt stupid to be taking up a room when there were people with real emergencies waiting.

 

Mari excused herself to smoke, and when the door closed, Viktor and Yuuri were alone.

 

“Dr. Yamada is a consulting physician here.  She said she’d come in and explain her plan for care, but that there was no guarantee that they would agree with it.”

 

Viktor nodded, placing his hand against the glass suddenly.  The window was floor length, and Yuuri had a moment of fear that Viktor would fall right through.

 

“Viktor, I wanted to ask…”

 

The door opened suddenly, and there was a wiry man with salt and pepper hair smiling at them.   _ “Is this Yuuri Katsuki’s room?” _

 

Yuuri nodded.  “Would you be able to speak in English?  My boyfriend isn’t fluent.”

 

The doctor nodded, saying, “Alright, so the assessment is going over what brought you here today, but we got a pretty detailed explanation from your referring physician.  I guess I just want your words, then.  Walk me through what happened, exactly, step by step.”

 

“I, um, I thought that Viktor needed my help…” Yuuri looked at the tiled ceiling, “So I pulled him from our outdoor baths and he got scratched.  When I saw the blood running, I felt the urge and I couldn’t suppress it.”

 

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” the doctor intoned, and Yuuri winced.

 

“He left, and I was stressed over what happened, so I went to the kitchen first, but I hadn’t realized that Mari padlocked the knives.  Um, then I went to my bathroom, but my razor was gone.  So I went to my sister’s bathroom, but she locked the door.”

 

“Very thorough, that sister,” the doctor smiled, continuing to write down what Yuuri was saying.  “What happened next?”

 

“I went to the back room and found the extra blades from the box cutter.  I pulled one out, and was about to cut, but I remembered what Viktor had said when he saw my cuts from my last relapse, and I dropped the blade.  Then I called my sister and told her what happened, and she came home and locked up the blades and stayed in my room that night.”

 

Yuuri couldn’t look at Viktor, but he could feel his heated stare.

 

“Well, it sounds like Viktor has had a positive influence over you.”

 

“He has,” Yuuri said softly, “He’s changed everything for me.”

 

The doctor glanced up at Yuuri, expression unreadable.  “Okay, that’s good.  I’m thinking that we keep you for a 48-hour observation and during that time our discharge team will get you set up with a therapist that will take you immediately.  Also, I have a little bit of a different philosophy than your doctor on medication.  I think I’m going to put you on a cocktail of more than one.  It looks like you’ve been on a few SSRIs that have helped but have not made the problem go away.  I’m going to add an older prescription to the one that worked the best.”

 

It was a lot to swallow, but Yuuri nodded, finally looking over at Viktor.  The Russian was staring out the window, and Yuuri’s stomach dropped when he realized that he had the blank doll eyes again

 

_ Don’t leave me again, Viktor.  Don’t leave me in the cold. _

 

The doctor left, and Yuuri finally snapped.  “What the hell?”

 

Viktor glanced over at Yuuri, surprised.  “What?”

 

“You weren’t just holding your breath,” Yuuri hissed, “and what was with that just now?  The way you were looking out the window like you weren’t even there…”

 

Viktor stiffened, crossing his arms.  “It’s fine.”

 

“It’s not,” Yuuri insisted, getting up from the table and crossing the room so that he was inches from his boyfriend.  “It’s not and I’m not going to be at the onsen for two days.  I can’t help you from here,” Yuuri threw his arms up to encompass the whole building.

 

The door opened, and Mari looked between the two of them, eyebrows furrowing.  “Did I miss something?”

 

Viktor sighed, and Yuuri felt himself being tugged into the older man’s chest, wrapped in a tight hug.

 

“I’ll be fine,  _ solnishko _ .  Focus on getting through this for right now.  I’ll be waiting for you when you get out.”

 

Yuuri knew that Viktor wouldn’t want to explore it further, and his stomach was churning at the thought of Viktor being alone in the hot spring, able to slip beneath the water again…

 

“Viktor, can you go get me water?” Yuuri asked suddenly, and the Russian brightened up at the thought of doing something to help.

 

“Of course!  I’ll be right back.”

 

Once his boyfriend was gone, Yuuri rounded on Mari.

 

“Something is wrong with Viktor.”

 

His sister rubbed her temples.  “I only have enough brainpower for one messed up loved one today.”

 

Yuuri winced.  “Ouch.”

 

Mari glanced up at him, surprised, as if she hadn’t realized she had said that out loud.  “What’s up?”

 

“Viktor went under in the baths yesterday and wouldn’t come back up.  I had to drag him up.  He looked… dead inside.”

 

Mari glanced at the door where Viktor had disappeared, and sure enough the Russian popped back in with a glass of water.

 

“Here you go!”

 

The two siblings looked at each other, Yuuri panicked and Mari dubious, until the nurse came in to do Yuuri’s exam and the two visitors were asked to leave.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Womp womp womp.
> 
> Next chapter will be a flashback chapter. Prepare yourself for all the feels. It'll also be on the shorter side, but will provide relevant information regarding Viktor's history.
> 
> If you like this fic, check out my other YOI fic "The Picture of Yuri Plisetsky," about Yurio dealing with his homophobic family and his lingering crush on the friendly neighborhood glove biter


	12. Silver Doorknobs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look back at Yakov's experiences with Viktor's depression. Then, Mari is worried

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends
> 
> So this chapter is a little emotional, and a little short. I told it in little pieces in order to convey a sense of longevity with the issue. Also, it just seemed like it would be most accurately portrayed through Yakov's eyes.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discusses themes of depression, dissociation, abuse, toxic relationships, and mild unhealthy coping. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Then, go to the freebies section of your on demand and watch the shittiest horror film you can find with said loved one. Eat mug cakes and make fun of all the tropes. Halloween is just around the corner, friends
> 
> As usual, I don't own Yuri! on Ice

_Three weeks after Worlds, 2012_

_St. Petersburg_

 

Yakov stood outside the apartment, wiping sweat from his brow.

 

It was early in the morning, and Viktor hadn’t contacted him in two days.  This wasn’t uncommon, for Viktor to lose track of time and become spacey, especially since competition season had ended.

 

What was unusual was that Viktor’s neighbor had called him.

 

Viktor gave all of his neighbors Yakov’s number in case of emergencies, and this particular neighbor was concerned.  

 

“ _Last night I heard some screaming.  Viktor hasn’t left yet.  I’m worried…”_

 

The kind old lady would be getting a very generous Easter present.

 

The door was locked, and Yakov sighed, digging his spare key ring out of his pocket. He had one for each of the skaters, and he thumbed through the multicolor ring until his blue “Viktor” key slid into the lock.

 

The first thing that got to him was the state of the apartment.  It was a mess.  Viktor was almost obsessive about his cleanliness, but right now there were pillows thrown.  A picture frame was shattered on the hardwood.  The kitchen looked like it had been abandoned mid-meal, an empty pot on the stove and an onion half-sliced stinking up the place.

 

When he moved into the bedroom, he sucked in his breath, pulling out his phone immediately.

 

Viktor was laying on the bed, curled in on himself.  Makkachin was laying in front of him protectively, and growled when the coach started to get close.

 

The damned dog never growled.

 

“Viktor, what happened…”

 

Then he heard it, quietly, Viktor’s voice whispering something over and over again.

 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…”

 

By time Yakov got the police there, Viktor was staring glassily at the ceiling.  

 

They’d managed to get a very clipped version of what had happened.  His boyfriend, Stephan, had seen Viktor with another man, and thought that Viktor was cheating on him.

 

He then trashed Viktor’s apartment, throwing objects around until Viktor threw him out.  Then Viktor had gone over to the bed and just sat there until Yakov came in, almost twelve hours later.

 

The emergency personnel pulled Yakov aside.  “Has he shown any symptoms like this before?  Becoming this dissociated is usually an indicator of an underlying…”

 

Yakov grunted to cut him off.  “That doesn’t seem relevant.”

 

“For his medical history…”

 

Yakov remembered the many tear-stained nights he’d stayed up with the skater, every few weeks or months since he was fourteen.  Of the progressively older Viktor each time, looking with his desperate eyes, each time begging his coach _not to tell anyone_ as he sobbed for no apparent reason and became about as useful as a rag doll.

 

“That’s something you’ll have to ask him.”

 

_One week before the Grand Prix Final 2015_

_St. Petersburg_

 

Yakov banged on Viktor’s door again.  “Get up, you lazy bum, competition is right around the corner and we need to practice!”

 

When the skater didn’t answer, Yakov pulled the spare key to the apartment out, letting himself in.

 

As usual, it was spotless.  Unusually, though, Makkachin hadn’t come bounding to greet him, which made Yakov’s throat go dry.

 

Moving towards the back of the apartment, Yakov opened the door to Viktor’s room, and saw him staring at the ceiling, wearing sweatpants and nothing else, Makkachin nudging his hand.

 

“Viktor,” Yakov barked, and the skater didn’t respond except to blink.

 

Yakov grumbled, coming over to the bed and grabbing Viktor by the cheeks, so that he was forced to look at him.

 

It was like there was no one staring back.  An empty husk.  Yakov sighed, dropping him back onto the bed, where the skater gazed off out the window.

 

“I’m going to make you food.  I’m assuming you haven’t eaten since last time you were at practice, which was… three days ago?”

 

Yakov took one look at the empty fridge and sighed, dialing a number on his phone instead.

 

“Take-out, then.”

 

The coach moved back into the bedroom, where Viktor had moved to curl up into Makkachin, face buried in her fur.  She was whimpering, trying to get at Viktor’s face to lick it.

 

“This one’s bad.”

 

Viktor didn’t respond except to pull his legs in tighter.

 

“You need to skate.  Your sponsors want videos of your practice.”

 

The skater still wouldn’t talk.

 

Grunting, he dialed another number on his phone.  “Hey, it’s me.  I need a favor...”

  


***

  


When the food arrived Yakov laid it out on the table, going into the skater’s room.

 

“If you don’t get up and eat something I’m calling an ambulance.”

 

At that Viktor sat up, gazing glassily ahead.  He scooted off the bed and followed Yakov out into the living room.

 

“You smell like you haven’t moved in three days, either.”

 

Viktor sat down in front of the chicken noodle soup and grilled cheese, eyeing the food with the first semblance of attention that Yakov had seen.

 

“I can’t stay with you all day.  I have other skaters to train.  I had to call her.”

 

Viktor just remained silent.

 

“If you’re not at practice tomorrow I’m sending the police here.  I don’t care if you come in the nude, or if I have to attach rockets to your skates to make it look like you’re trying.  You have an obligation.”

 

The older man waited, pacing around the kitchen while Viktor poked his grilled cheese, starting to drift again, eyes becoming glassy.  

 

The coach sighed, placing his hand gently on Viktor’s shoulder.  “I wish you would see someone and get help.”

 

He was very sure that Viktor couldn’t hear him.

 

The doorbell rang, and Yakov answered it, a pretty brunette with sparkling green eyes staring back at him.  “Where is he?”

 

Yakov moved aside so that Elena could enter, and she wandered over to her friend, clucking her tongue.

 

“I’ve got it from here.  I can stay until Thursday, but then I have work and I’ll need someone to take over.”

 

“We have until tomorrow morning before one of his sponsors pull their funding.”

 

Elena frowned, carding through Viktor’s silvery hair.  The man had started stirring the soup, not looking at what he was doing.  Some of the broth was dribbling down the side of the styrofoam cup.

  


***

  


The next morning, Yakov was surprised to find that Viktor was already at the rink working, skating his free program the best he’d ever.  Yuri was taking the video on his cell phone, and when the coach wandered over, he realized that Yuri had forwarded it to his own cell phone.

 

“He owes me big for helping him,” Yuri griped, “I had to wake up early for this shit.”

 

The younger skater stomped past Yakov, and for the first time in four days Yakov visibly relaxed.

  


***

  


_The Morning After the Grand Prix Final 2015_

 

Yakov was banging on Viktor’s hotel door, panicked but trying to maintaining some semblance of control over himself.

 

Which is why it surprised him when Viktor opened his door, face blushing, eyes wide.

 

“Yakov!  Just the man I wanted to see.”

 

The coach was pulled into the room, which was as neat and tidy as Viktor had ever kept it, but his bed was a mess with papers.

 

“I’ve been looking it up.  I can’t believe that Yuuri Katsuki hasn’t done better in competition.  It’s extremely strange, because his skill level is so high.  What if it’s his coaching?”

 

Yakov rubbed his eyes.  He had to be seeing things.  Is this the same skater that he literally had to dress and drag to the banquet last night?  Is this the same skater that had skated his Stay Close to Me then collapsed into a conference room until Yuri and Yakov found him, silent tears soaking the carpet?

 

“Yuuri… Katsuki?  The boy you were dancing with last night?”

 

“Yes!” Viktor beamed, shuffling through his papers.  “He asked me to be his coach.  I don’t know how much alcohol had to do with that declaration, but it felt like some sort of sign.”

 

“Sure.  Right.  Viktor, you don’t know the first thing about coaching.”

 

“Oh, of course not.  I wasn’t actually thinking of being his coach.  Maybe I can just sit down with him and give him some pointers.  Or maybe we could just get coffee…” Viktor’s face was lost in some sort of dreamy reverie.  

 

Yakov was dumbfounded.

  


***

  


_A few months later..._

 

This time, Yakov was in his own house, sitting with a mug of spiced cider and his soap opera, when a knock came pounding on his door.

 

When he opened it, Viktor spilled into his apartment with a laptop and a dog, like liquid rushing out of a dam.  

 

“Did you see it Yakov did you see him skate me routine I’m _in love_ Yakov I think I might actually be in love with his skating…”

 

Yakov looked over Viktor’s shoulder, bleary-eyed.   They’d all been talking about it the morning after worlds in the hotel lobby.  His whole team was playing it on their phones while waiting for their bus to take them to the airport.  Yakov had yet to see the video all the way through.

 

He had to admit, after watching it on Viktor’s computer, that the kid had talent.  His presentation was beautiful.  His technical skills were a little lacking, but that could be taught.  

 

You couldn’t teach emotional connection.

 

Viktor had about thirty other tabs up about Yuuri, and his coach sighed, walking into his kitchen to make up another glass of cider.

 

It was going to be a long night.

  


***

  


_Driving home from Coastal County Psychiatric Emergency Clinic_

_Present Day_

 

Mari glanced over at Viktor.  The older man had said nothing since leaving Yuuri at the hospital.  

 

“Yuuri said something before I left,” she said slowly, and the Russian visibly winced.  “He said that you weren’t okay.”

 

Mari’s eyes were on the road ahead of her, as she heard Viktor force a laugh.  “Yuuri is just worried about me, that’s all.  He knows that he’s the light of my life.”

 

“Yeah,” Mary said slowly, “How are you going to be, with him gone for two days?  What are you going to do?”

 

The country scenery had transitioned into the mountainous roads of Hasetsu.  

 

“We live at an inn.  There will be plenty to do!”

 

Mari nodded, uneasy.

  


***

  


Later that night, Viktor finished cleaning up after cooking with Hiroko, his boyfriend’s mother having made a traditional beef stew for dinner.

 

“You’re always so good, Vicchan.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

 

Viktor laughed good-naturedly, his smile splitting his face nearly in two.  Once he retired for the night, he laid back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling in defeat.

 

Finally, the sobs ripped out from his chest.  He curled in on himself, thrashing around a little, the black hole in his chest sending waves of pain through every limb.  Breathing hurt.  Smiling hurt.  Existing hurt.

 

Everything hurt.

 

Yuuri had seen it. He’d seen when the darkness started to swallow him again.  Viktor had thought that living here would be the cure, but here it is again, back with a vengeance, just in time for Yuuri to be hospitalized.

 

After a few moments he stopped crying, the tears drying up.  He had realized, all of a sudden, that even crying hurt.

  


***

  


Mari knocked on Viktor’s door the next day, apprehension in every inch of her.  Yuuri’s words had swirled around in her head like a record stuck on repeat.

 

“Viktor?” she asked, opening the door, and at first it looked fine.  Viktor was laying in bed, maybe a little later than usual, until she realized that his eyes were open, glassy and doll-like, staring at the ceiling, breathing shallow.

 

“Viktor, are you alright?”

 

His face turned to her, confused, starting to focus on the world around him, if only barely.  

 

“I wanted to check on you.”

 

The Russian blinked a few times, opening and closing his mouth.  

 

“Mom wanted help with lunch.  Think you could spare the time?”

 

He just gazed blankly at her for a few unnerving seconds.  Then, all at once, he seemed to come back to himself, nodding.

 

Mari let out the breath she’d been holding and fled the room, trying to shake the feeling that she was staring at a dead man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it, folks.
> 
> There will be some clearing up in the future as to certain aspects of Viktor's depression but for now this is what we got.
> 
> If you like this fic, check out my other YOI fic, "The Picture of Yuri Plisetsky" about our angry kitten trying to figure out his feelings for Otabek amidst a power struggle with his rich grandparents.
> 
> Stay tuned for next time, where Yuri and Viktor will be reunited once more!


	13. Silver Bowl (Of Victory)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri gets released from the hospital. Yuuri's new therapist meets with the couple. Later, Yuuri and Viktor get "closer"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is here.
> 
> I have shown so much self restraint, guys. It's been three whole days since I posted last. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: difficult therapy sessions, unhealthy coping, references to self harm, as well as explicit sexual content. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Go to the store with the loved one and buy all the materials for spiced apple cider. Make spiced apple cider and talk it out with them. 
> 
> As usual, I don't own Yuri! on Ice, but I'd like to make spiced apple cider for those who do

When Yuuri stepped out of the hospital doors in the morning, Viktor was standing there with a small bouquet of blue irises.

 

Mari and Minako were standing behind him, holding a sign that read  _ Yuuri Katsuki Wins This One _ , to which Yuuri grinned.

 

In the two days since he had been admitted, he managed to meet with his new therapist, who’d made the drive up to see him in the hospital.  He also had started back on an old medication along with a new one, sending his body out-of-whack, but in general, he was feeling a lot… calmer.

 

When he reached Viktor, he took the flowers in hand, admiring the bouquet.  Then, he handed  the flowers to Mari and tackled the older skater in a hug, kissing his way up Viktor’s neck until he planted a kiss firmly on his lips.

 

“I missed you,” he said as way of explanation, but Viktor’s face was affectionate as he pressed a kiss of his own to the younger man’s nose.  

 

“I missed you, too.”

 

They all piled into the car.  Yuuri and Viktor were in the back seat, fingers laced together, Yuuri leaning on Viktor’s shoulder, taking a deep breath.

 

“I missed the way you smelled,” Yuuri whispered, feathering a kiss to his shoulder.  “I feel like I’ve been away forever.”

 

Viktor’s fingers tightened on Yuuri’s.  “I agree.  Let’s not do that again.”

 

They were quiet the rest of the way back to the onsen, Minako and Mari keeping up filler conversation, until they walked Yuuri inside and his mother and father greeted him, showering him in hugs.

 

Yuuri gazed in wonder at a silver bowl of Katsudon on the table.  “Mom, what…”

 

“It’s a victory, Yuuri,” Viktor said happily, wrapping his arm around Yuuri’s waist and pressing a kiss to his neck.  “You won, love.”

 

Yuuri’s whole body became warm at the sensation, and they all sat around the table, eating Katsudon and weaving small talk until it became a pillow of fluff surrounding the party of people.

 

When Yuuri was done he gathered his things and his Viktor and marched upstairs, starting to unload his bags back into his room.

 

Viktor sat on the bed, diligently waiting until Yuuri was done unpacking.

 

Sometime in the middle of that Yuuri fetched a vase for the irises, propping them up on his desk.

 

Once Yuuri was done, he crawled onto the bed, catching Viktor’s mouth in an all-consuming kiss.

 

“Hi.”

 

“Hi,” Viktor grinned, eyes scanning Yuuri’s face with interest.

 

“How was it really while I was gone?”

 

Viktor’s mask of happiness slipped for only a brief spell.  “It was hard.  I missed you, but I spent lots of time cooking with your mother.  She kept me busy.”

 

Yuuri nodded, leaning his forehead against Viktor’s.  “I can’t wait to skate for you today.” 

 

Viktor’s face lit up.  “I can’t wait to coach you today.”

  
  


***

  
  


At the end of practice, Yuuri was grinning.  

 

“I hated not working out there.  I felt like I was going crazy,” he unlaced his skates and threw on his sneakers.  “There’s something really cathartic about using your body.”

 

Viktor nodded, pulling his own bag over his shoulder.  “Mari is picking us up in a few minutes to bring us to your new therapist.”

 

Yuuri nodded.  “She said that she wanted to meet with you towards the end.  I hope that’s okay…”

 

Viktor nodded, pressing a soft kiss to Yuuri’s temple.  “More than okay.  I want to do anything I can do to help.”

 

They climbed into the backseat of the car, Mari bringing them to the other side of town, to a small medical building built by the water.

 

Yuuri and Viktor waited quietly in the waiting room, on their own respective phones, until the therapist popped her head out.  “Hi, Yuuri.  I can take you now.  Is this Viktor?”

 

Yuuri was grateful that she had used English initially, introducing Viktor.  “This is Kya,” Yuuri said happily, and Viktor saw how comfortable that Yuuri was with the woman and felt a lot of the tension in his body dissipate.

 

He waited outside for forty minutes, scrolling through Instagram, until Kya popped her head back out.  “Come on in, Viktor.”

 

Viktor moved into the office, where Yuuri was already sitting on a very comfortable looking leather couch.  He sat next to his boyfriend, clutching his hand for support.

 

“Alright, so I’ve got you both here now.  I need to have a serious talk with both of you.”

 

Yuuri looked a little confused.  “I thought I would just be introducing him so that you can get to know him more in person.”

 

Kya was a person who could be somewhere between twenty and fifty.  Her eyes were soul skewers, and her fingers were playing with her pen, like she was constantly impatient.

 

Viktor wasn’t sure why Yuuri liked her so much.

 

“I won’t lie to you, Yuuri, I’ve been concerned with what you’ve been telling me about your relationship with this man.”

 

Yuuri recoiled as if slapped.  “I don’t understand…”

 

She held up her hand.  “Let me clarify.  I have nothing against homosexuality.  That doesn’t even faze me.  What I am concerned about is how dependant you two seem to be on each other.”

 

She pointed her pen at Viktor.  “You clearly have an undiagnosed condition that made you impossible to reach during the time Yuuri needed you most.”

 

Viktor struggled to find words as she pointed at Yuuri next, “You rely far too much on Viktor to cope.  A person with a mental illness should have coping  _ skills _ , not coping  _ people _ .  Sometimes coping is going to a loved one, but it can’t be the only option.  What if Mari hadn’t answered her phone?  How are you planning on taking responsibility for your own decisions that have played into your cutting addiction?”

 

The two of them just stared, mouths agape, at Kya, who then switched her legs to cross them the other way.

 

“We’ll start by getting Viktor assessed.  How does next week sound?”   
  


 

Viktor shook his head.  “That isn’t…”

 

“If you don’t get diagnosed, you risk your unchecked illness triggering Yuuri again.  He’s in a very delicate state right now, and it’s taking a majority of his willpower to not resort to cutting.  If you plan to stay in his life, you have to take care of him by taking care of you.”

 

Viktor said nothing, fingers tightening on Yuuri’s hand.

 

“Make an appointment with my secretary before leaving, yeah?”

 

The two skaters were still at a loss.

 

“Yuuri, your assignment for next time is to come up with a list of three new coping skills that you can divert your urges to.”

 

Yuuri nodded, looking a little dumbfounded.

 

“Alright, I think that’s it for today.  See my secretary on the way out.”

 

They left the office a little worse for wear.  Mari was watching them intently as they stepped into the car.

 

“You look like crap,” she said unapologetically, driving them the rest of the way in silence.

  
  


***

  
  


When Yuuri knocked on Viktor’s door that evening, the Russian answered, looking relieved.  “I was worried that what she said might have…”

 

Yuuri rushed against Viktor, pressing soft kisses to his face.

 

“Yuuri, what…”

 

“I just need to feel close to you,” Yuuri said softly, closing the door behind him.  “I want to…”

 

His hand kneaded Viktor’s crotch.  The Russian gasped, moaning.  “Yuuri, slow down.”

 

Yuuri whined at the rejection, jumping back in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to get so… never mind, I was wrong…”

 

Viktor pulled him back in, brushing back his dark locks and kissing him again.  “No, I want to feel close to you, too.”

 

Raising an eyebrow, Viktor continued, “It’s just, we’ve never gone as far as I want to go before…”

 

At that, Yuuri smiled, hugging close to Viktor, his lips at the older man’s ear.  “Doesn’t mean we can’t start now.”

 

That sent a wave of shivers through Viktor’s body.

 

Yuuri murmured with a smirk, “It’s not the first time for either of us.  It’d just be us taking that next step.  You want to feel close, that’s the best way to do it.”

 

Viktor moaned, hugging Yuuri tighter to himself.  They waddled back to the bed like that, giggling and peppering each other with kisses until they fell back, disturbing into the sheets.

 

They settled parallel on the mattress, legs tangled together, kissing lazily for a few minutes.

 

Viktor felt a tug in his gut that made him want  _ more _ , the darkness coming back with a vengeance.  

 

Yuuri parted Viktor’s legs with his hand, kneading Viktor’s crotch again.  “I… I want to be inside of you.  Is that… okay?”

 

Viktor sighed in relief.  The emptiness inside him needed to be filled, somehow.  Maybe, just maybe, that was what he needed.

 

“That would be perfect.”

 

Yuuri kneeled over Viktor, licking at his earlobe.  “Do you have what we need?”

 

Viktor nodded, directing Yuuri to the correct drawer.  The younger man was back in a flash, setting aside the items in question and straddling Viktor.

 

“Where were we?”

 

Yuuri always loved to feel control in these situations, but this was something deeper.  Yuuri didn’t know parts of Viktor.  

 

It was those same parts that had made the older man duck under the water.  

 

Despite having studied the man his whole life, Yuuri was left without answers, and Viktor wasn’t letting him in.  Yuuri needed to regain control, somehow; he needed to make Viktor realize, finally, that he could trust Yuuri with all of his deepest secrets, starting with something like this.

 

Yuuri worked slowly to take off all of Viktor’s clothes, until the Russian was panting underneath him, blush reaching all the way down his chest.

 

“I want to get you off before I’m inside of you.  How do you want me, Viktor?”

 

The Russian felt the darkness rumble, and he pulled his boyfriend towards him so that Yuuri’s face and his were inches away.  In Yuuri’s eyes, he could see light past the dark brown.  His sun, shining to keep the dark thoughts away. 

 

“I want to be able to see you,” Viktor said softly, his voice more vulnerable that it had ever been around Yuuri.

 

The younger skater nodded, shedding his own clothing.  He then leaned over to squirt a little bit of lube on his hand, rubbing it between his fingers to warm it up.  Then, when Yuuri deemed it good enough, he reached between the two of them, grabbing both of their hardening cocks.

 

He set a slow, easy pace, and Viktor whispered loving words between them.  Their foreheads were bent together, eyes drifted shut.  If anyone had walked in during that moment, the two of them wouldn’t have even noticed.  They were too wrapped up in their love.

 

Yuuri stopped working on himself after a little while and set a more punishing pace on Viktor, pressing kisses into his hair.  Viktor moaned when he was close, teeth clamping down on Yuuri’s collarbone as he came.

 

Yuuri gasped happily at the sensation of Viktor leaving his mark on him.

 

Once Viktor was spent, Yuuri laid him back down onto the bed.

 

“Yuuri, you spoil me,” Viktor murmured as Yuuri gathered more lube between his fingers.

 

“No, I’m treating you well now so that by time I’m inside you I don’t have to hold back.”

 

Viktor hummed happily as Yuuri’s first finger started circling his puckered opening.

 

When he pressed in, Viktor moaned deliciously, hands clutching at the sheets.  Yuuri worked slowly and gently.  Viktor had put his trust in Yuuri to keep him from getting hurt and Yuuri would never let that happen, if he could help it.

 

“More,” Viktor hissed, but Yuuri shushed him with a kiss, pushing the second finger in.

 

“Patience, love.  I want to take you apart bit by bit.”

 

Viktor nodded, letting his eyes drift shut at the sensation, until Yuuri pushed in again and hit the sweet spot that made Viktor spasm in ecstasy.

 

“Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this,” Yuuri purred, adding a third finger and setting a slow pace on Viktor, hitting his prostate with each twitch of his fingers.

 

When Viktor let out a strangled cry, Yuuri knew that he’d given him a dry orgasm.  The Russian relaxed with it, and Yuuri started spreading his fingers, delicately opening his boyfriend up, until Viktor was whispering, “Yuuri, please, you’re killing me.”

 

Yuuri’s cock hadn’t been given enough attention, and when he slipped the condom on his patience was also running thin.  He spread the leftover lube on his own member, wanting it to be as easy as possible on his boyfriend.

 

Lifting his boyfriend’s left leg over his shoulder, he hovered before the entrance, whispering breathily, “Can I?”

 

“God, yes,” Viktor begged, and Yuuri pressed in.

 

He’d done a good job preparing Viktor, because he slid in easily, gasping at the sensation.  “Viktor, you feel so good.”

 

Viktor nodded frantically, probably trying to convey that he agreed, but his words wouldn’t work.

 

Yuuri started slow, but soon he was pounding into his boyfriend, pressing kisses on the inside of Viktor’s leg, then biting into the flesh there, making Viktor see stars.

 

After a few moments, Yuuri realized that he wasn’t getting deep enough.  He pulled out, making Viktor whisper, “Yuuri, why’d you…”

 

Then Yuuri grinned wickedly at his boyfriend, pulling him by the ankles unceremoniously off the side of the bed, so that Viktor’s feet were on the floor and his face was pressed into the mattress. 

 

Yuuri surveyed his prize momentarily, Viktor’s hole dripping deliciously with lube, before pressing back in again.

 

“Ah, Yuuri, oh,” Viktor mumbled, pressing into the mattress and yelling nonsense because he just  _ couldn’t think _ , Yuuri was hitting his prostate with each pound, and Yuuri wasn’t giving Viktor any chance to recover between thrusts.

 

Yuuri felt sweat sweat start to drip down his body, lost to the feeling of filling Viktor, of Viktor’s hole twitching maddeningly around him, of the lewd sounds that were spilling out of the Russian…

 

Yuuri came with a gasp, bending down and pressing kisses into Viktor’s back as he rode out the orgasm.  Viktor hummed as Yuuri reached around and stroked Viktor through one more orgasm, and soon they both collapsed onto the mattress, boneless and dripping in sweat.

 

Relieving himself of the condom, Yuuri grabbed a towel while he was up, coming back to the bed and taking gentle care to wipe Viktor and him down.  Then, he threw the towel into Viktor’s laundry basket and came back to his boyfriend, draping himself over him.  

 

Viktor stroked Yuuri’s head as they laid there, tangled up in each other, their breathing slowly evening out.

 

“Wow,” Viktor whispered, “I have to say, I thought I would be calling the shots when this happened.”

 

Chuckling, Yuuri pressed a kiss into Viktor’s chest.  “You get to call the shots on the ice, and I get to call the shots in here.”

 

At that, Viktor smiled.  “That sounds perfect.”

 

They sat there for a while, basking in their shared comfort, until Yuuri began, “I need you to know…”

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor warned, but Yuuri pulled himself up to make eye contact with his boyfriend.

 

“No, listen.  I… I want to be there for you.  I want to be there for you in every way possible.  If what you need is for me to make love to you, I’ll do it.  If what you need is for me to listen to you, I’ll do that too.  I’m tired of me depending on you.  This has to be a two-way street.  Don’t talk about it until you’re ready, but don’t leave me in the dark either.”

 

Tears were forming in Viktor’s eyes as he nodded, looking up at the ceiling.

 

Yuuri fell asleep like that, listening to the steady beat of Viktor’s heart.

 

Viktor, however, was still up.

 

It had started slowly, creeping in on him as Yuuri drifted to sleep, and it was back now, making Viktor’s limbs weak and his breathing labored.  

 

Viktor started whispering imperceptibly in Russian.  “ _ It hurts, my love.  It hurts and I don’t know if anyone can help me, let alone you.  Even if that’s true, keep trying.  Keep shining like my sunlight to lead me out of the darkness.  I need you, baby.” _

 

For a heart-stopping second Yuuri stirred, breath catching, before drifting back off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that! Sexy times!
> 
> Also, I didn't make Kya to be like-able, so if you hate her don't worry join the club. 
> 
> I really like the concept that Yuuri takes charge in the bedroom in order to give him a semblance of power in order to cope with his anxieties about his body. This is just the way I like to think of it.
> 
> As always, I love feedback<3 All of you are wonderful angels and I'm so lucky to have you.
> 
> If you like this fic, check out my other YOI fics, "Tabula Rasa" and "The Picture of Yuri Plisetsky"


	14. Quicksilver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri discovers that Viktor had been hiding a serious history with depression. Some mild heart attacks and some fluff ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends. Looks like the series has settled so I'm thinking this will be updated around twice a week. 
> 
> Some notes about Viktor's depression as it's depicted here: not all depression is as paralyzing as his. For a lot of people, they feel the same level of pain, but are up and around doing their daily life even though it hurts like hell. There is no right way to have depression, and one is not necessarily more or less serious than the other. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: topics discussed include depression and anxiety. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Go to a laser tag arena and proceed to play laser tag with them. Antics will ensue
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice, though I would like to play laser tag with those who do

When Yuuri woke up the next morning, he knew something was wrong.

 

He expected to wake up to be tangled with Viktor, but to his surprise they’d separated in the night.  Yuuri was laying on his stomach, arms spread out, and Viktor was to his left, back to him.

 

Yuuri felt the distance like a tangible force, and pulled himself over to Viktor, wrapping his arm around him and pressing a kiss to the other man’s cheek.

 

Viktor opened his eyes and looked up at Yuuri, and… Yuuri stared back at the abyss.

 

That was the only way to describe the emotions swirling there, emptiness but also full of something else.  Yuuri’s fingers came up to stroke Viktor’s cheek, and he didn’t react to the attention, just turned to look blankly at the wall.

 

“Viktor,” Yuuri whispered, breath hitching in his chest.  He was a little rough as he flipped Viktor to be on his back, but the Russian barely reacted to that, as well.

 

“Viktor, please, talk to me,” Yuuri whispered, hands shaking as he brushed silver hair back from his boyfriend’s face.  “What’s wrong?”

 

Viktor’s arms were limp on his sides, and Yuuri clutched the hands tightly, but Viktor stayed motionless.

 

Tears formed in Yuuri’s eyes.  “Viktor, please, talk to me,  _ please Viktor don’t leave me by myself”  _ at some point he realized that Viktor wasn’t home, and that what he was saying didn’t matter, and in his mania he’d switched to Japanese.

 

A few minutes later he was pounding at his mother’s door in one of the inn’s robes, and Hiroko came out, eyes wide.  “Yuuri, dear, I was just about to start preparations for breakfast…”

 

“Something’s wrong with Viktor.”

 

They rushed back to the room.  Yuuri had thought ahead and put a pair of lounge pants on Viktor, and the Russian had gone along with it like a doll, letting Yuuri twist him and tug at him in any way he wanted.

 

Yuuri had almost thrown up. 

 

When Hiroko came in, Viktor turned away from the door, curling in on himself, whimpering.

 

Relief and concern flooded Yuuri.  It was the first time that Viktor had given any indication that he was conscious of what was going on.  He rushed to the bed, kneeling over his boyfriend.

 

“Viktor, please talk to me. What hurts?”

 

Tears were forming in Viktor’s eyes as he choked out, “ _ Everything _ .”

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri glided on the ice, his mind buzzing with worry.

 

“Please try to focus, Yuuri,” Yuuko said uneasily, “I don’t want you hurting yourself on a jump.”

 

Yuuri had asked Yuuko to come in and work with him that day.  It took everything in him to leave Viktor, but Hiroko assured Yuuri that they’d be checking up on him periodically.

 

They’d only gotten the one word from him until he was crying, curling in on himself.  At some point Makkachin had hopped on the bed and wiggled herself in the gap between Viktor’s arms, licking away the tears.

 

Yuuri started his free program, the music singing around him, but within a minute he’d lost his train of thought, forgetting how it went.

 

“Come on, Yuuri,” came a voice from his phone; Phichit was being facetimed into the rink to give Yuuri some much-needed feedback.

 

“Try again, Yuuri,” Yuuko said calmly, pressing a few buttons on the disc player.

 

He did the program again and again.  His movements were stiff, and his head was somewhere else.

 

After thirty minutes Phichit had to leave to go to his own practice, and Yuuri thanked him profusely.

 

They ended practice after two hours, Yuuko hugging Yuuri firmly.  “He’ll be okay.  He’ll talk to you when he’s ready, okay?”

 

Yuuri had confided in his friend, though he was worried about whether Viktor would be upset about him divulging the information.  He had no other choice, though.  He couldn’t bottle it up anymore.  The last time he didn’t talk about Viktor being like this he ended up in the hospital.

 

When he entered the inn, he took off his shoes and showered off quickly, putting on comfortable clothes and heading right to Viktor’s room.

 

Mari was reading on his sofa when he got there, and Viktor was laying on his back, spread out like a star fish, eyes blankly staring at the ceiling.

 

“Has he eaten anything?”

 

Mari shook her head.  “We offered him crackers, fruit, even chocolate.  No dice.  He did drink some water, though, which is good.”

 

Yuuri climbed onto the bed, and Viktor glanced over at him, eyes just as destitute as before.

 

“I practiced my free program.  Yuu-chan and Phichit helped.  I landed the quad sal again doing it.”

 

Viktor struggled to smile, reaching up to stroke Yuuri’s cheek.

 

As soon as it happened, the arm dropped like dead weight.

 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Mari said softly, ducking out of the room.

 

Yuuri placed his head down on Viktor’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.  “Ready yet?”

 

Viktor sighed, his hand coming up to stroke Yuuri’s hair, which was the most complex motion he’d done all day.

 

“Can we just lay here?” his voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper, but Yuuri felt himself start to relax.  Progress.

 

They stayed like that for an hour, until Hiroko popped her head in and said quietly, “Yuuri, do you want me to bring food up?”

 

“Viktor?” he asked hesitantly, and Viktor squinted at Hiroko, swallowing.  

 

“I can try to eat.”

 

Hiroko nodded, leaving again, the door shutting behind her.

 

Yuuri started tracing patterns on Viktor’s chest, looking up at his boyfriend, whose eyes were finally focusing on what was around him but were still empty.

 

“I… get like this, sometimes,” Viktor began, still not looking at Yuuri.  “It’s been happening since I was fourteen.  Sometimes I just… can’t.  It’s not all the time.  I can go weeks, or months without it happening, but when it hits me, it’s paralyzing.”

 

Yuuri nodded, kissing Viktor’s chest where his head lay.

 

“There isn’t… a reason.  Most of the time it just happens.  One minute, I’m going about my day, and the next minute the wind is knocked out of me and I feel like a thousand pounds have been strapped to my body.  There have been times that something happens and I react badly, but most of the times it’s just… this.”

 

They lay there for a while before Yuuri asked, “It was during the fireworks, wasn’t it?”

 

Viktor nodded, closing his eyes.  “There’s this sensation I get before it starts sometimes, like I’m on the precipice of this huge gaping hole.  It’s like my body is preparing me, telling me that the darkness will hit soon.  Even things that should make me happy, or excited, just aren’t as meaningful.  I wanted to be blown away by the fireworks, and when I realized that I wasn’t excited, that I wasn’t reacting the way I should have been, I knew it was coming.”

 

Viktor started stroking Yuuri’s hair again.  “When I get like that, I get desperate.  Anything to fill the void.  Being around you helped so much.  I thought that you were my cure.  That maybe if I was just with you, all the time, I’d finally be happy.”

 

The younger man felt himself start to choke up, but held back the tears.  He needed to be the strong one, right now.

 

“Turns out that it’s just more of the same,” Viktor said coldly, and his fingers stilled in Yuuri’s hair.

 

“Did you make that appointment with Kya?”

 

Viktor shook his head.  “I didn’t like her.  I’ll… I’ll find someone else.”

 

“I liked her because she didn’t treat me like I was delicate,” Yuuri began, “she called me out on my bullshit.  She said the things I was too afraid to.  That might not be what you need.”

 

Yuuri sat up a little bit and nudged Viktor to roll over so that he was spooning the older man, his nose nuzzled into Viktor’s neck.

 

“We’ll get through this,” Yuuri whispered, stroking Viktor’s arm soothingly.

 

“It will get better,” Viktor agreed, “But it isn’t right now.”

 

“That’s okay,” Yuuri said softly, “that’s okay.”

  
  


***

  
  


In the evening Yuuri left again to work with Minako on his ballet, and when he got back his whole world stopped when he saw that Viktor’s bed was empty.

 

“Viktor!” Yuuri yelled, panic threatening to spill over as he ran down to the dining area to tell his mother…

 

… when he banged open the kitchen door, Viktor’s eyes widened in surprise.  Hiroko clucked her tongue, “Be kind to the house, Yuuri, this place is very old.”

 

Viktor was moving a pot of soup from the stove onto the counter for serving.  He smiled at Yuuri, tightly and falsely.  “How was Minako’s?”

 

It was so… rehearsed.  Yuuri went along with it, unsettled but otherwise deciding to let it slide.  “I went over some stuff from Eros that I needed to touch up.”

 

Viktor nodded, working with Hiroko to start serving dinner.  Yuuri excused himself to change into his house clothes, and when he got back, he saw Viktor sitting around the table with Mari, Hiroko, and Toshiya, explaining in terrible Japanese about how he ruined his first kitchen.

 

“ _ I didn’t know how cook,” _ Viktor trilled happily, “ _ turns out you can burn pasta bad.” _

 

Mari helped correct some of his pronunciations as Yuuri sat next to them.  Once he sat down, Viktor’s fingers latched vice-like onto Yuuri’s hand, and Yuuri felt himself cringe.

 

_ It hurts right now, doesn’t it?  You’re putting on a show.  Playing a role. _

 

He saw it hang off Viktor like a cloud, the exhaustion, and either his family just wasn’t paying attention or maybe they didn’t know Viktor well enough to see it.

 

When they excused themselves for the night, the second that Viktor’s door closed, he collapsed onto the bed, breath-stealing sobs choked out into the mattress.

 

Yuuri shushed him gently, laying down next to him and gathering Viktor into his arms, singing softly until the older man’s tears dried.  Then, Yuuri turned out the light, and sang more until he felt Viktor’s stuttering breath even out as his dreams whisked him somewhere else.

  
  


***

  
  


The next day, when Yuuri woke up, Viktor was gone.

 

Frantic, he fumbled for his glasses and got out of bed, running into the hall, when he heard Viktor’s laugh drifting from down the hallway.

 

“Oh, of course.  Have to start somewhere!”

 

Yuuri glanced into the dining room and Viktor waved in his robe, smiling at Yuuri.  “I’ve already been on a run and soaked in the baths.  You slept in quite late, love.”

 

Blinking, Yuuri settled down next to Viktor, arm snaking out and capturing his waist to hug him closely to him.

 

He knew that he looked possessive like this, hovering so close, hanging off of his boyfriend, but Yuuri found that somehow he didn’t care.  “We don’t have to stay here, you know,” Yuuri whispered softly, “We can go back to your room.  You don’t have to be around people.”

 

Viktor only chuckled.  “You must be joking, Yuuri, we have practice today!”

 

“I had an idea about that.”

 

Viktor followed Yuuri to the living room a few minutes later, and saw that Yuuri had set up his laptop connected to the tv.  “I bookmark most of the youtube videos of my performances in competitions, and have lots of old footage of me in practices.  I was thinking that today we can just talk through corrections.  It’s easier for me to see what you mean if I’m watching with you.”

 

The first thing that was pulled up was Yuuri’s rendition of the Stay Close to Me routine.  It was paused at the beginning, and Yuuri was standing next to him, smiling warmly.  “I thought we could start with this.”

 

Viktor deflated like a balloon, collapsing into Yuuri and hugging him tightly, breathing ragged.  “Thank god.”

 

“We have to put your wellbeing first, Viktor.  This way it’s still you coaching.”

 

“It took so much just to be at breakfast…” Viktor mumbled into Yuuri’s t-shirt, and Yuuri sighed, patting his head reassuringly.  

 

“Come on.  I’ll pop some popcorn and make some tea.”

 

They spent the rest of the day like that, watching old routines of Yuuri’s, Viktor making comments and Yuuri writing notes carefully.

 

When Viktor was particularly biting in his comments, Yuuri would throw popcorn at him.  When Yuuri saw that Viktor was looking overwhelmed, they switched to snuggling and watching comedies.

 

Mari wandered into the living room to get them for dinner, and saw them curled together in the dark, Viktor fast asleep against Yuuri, Yuuri’s head rested on Viktor.  They were in a tangle of blankets, and there was popcorn all over them.

 

“What messes,” Mari chuckled, letting them be.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, mental illness sucks, but we just gotta come together and show support.
> 
> Next time: Yuuri deals with the fallout of focusing completely on Viktor after his hospitalization. Also: sexy times, because why the hell not?
> 
> If you like this, check out my other fics, "Tabula Rasa" and "The Picture of Yuri Plisetsky"


	15. Silver Nail Polish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri deals with the fact that he hasn't been focusing on his own mental health. Later, he comes up with a creative way to convince Viktor to see a therapist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello there!
> 
> I just want to say that I appreciate each and every one of you very much, and I hope that I'm putting forward a story that is worth the read. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of the desire to harm oneself, as well as depression, anxiety, and tough therapy sessions. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Force that loved one to watch YOI with you. After the episode, discuss how much you love Viktuuri on a scale of 1-10 (MY SCORE: 11 and a half)
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

Kya stared pointedly at Yuuri, who was doing his best not to make eye contact.

 

His therapist’s office was very different from his psychiatrist’s.  Where Dr. Yamada’s was like falling into a comfortable purple paint explosion, Kya preferred a minimalistic approach.  There were very few items decorating the walls other than her degrees.  There was a singular picture drawn in crayon, framed and labeled.  There were two potted plants, one a little bigger than the other, bending in the direction of her high-backed chair.

 

If Yuuri didn’t know better, looking at Kya in her chair waiting patiently for him to talk would have reminded him of a villain waiting to give a rousing revenge speech.

 

“Yuuri, you haven’t spoken in five minutes.  You know that, right?”

 

“Hmm?” Yuuri squeaked.

 

“I asked you what three coping skills you’d come up with in the last three days.  That was your assignment.”

 

Yuuri fidgeted, his brain traveling to his last few days.  “I’ve been a bit… preoccupied.”

 

Kya narrowed her eyes, tapping her long, manicured nails on the armrest to her left.  “Tell me about that, then.  What’s been keeping you busy?”

 

“Mostly practice,” Yuuri said honestly.  Hiroko had bought Yuuri some play-doh for his therapy session and it was burning a hole in his pocket with his nerves.

 

He gave in and took it out, but Kya was still tapping her fingernails.

 

“I’ve been working on my free program.  Viktor’s also been helping me refine my technical elements.  We’ve been going over old routines and practices and pulling apart my form bit by bit.  It’s been a little… humbling…”

 

That was the nice way of putting it.  Apparently depressed Viktor doesn’t have a filter, because his comments have been scathing.  They’d developed a method of Yuuri being able to fight back in those moments, tho, and it was usually in the form of popcorn or Yuuri pulling up some of Viktor’s embarrassing Instagram videos from nights out drinking.

 

They both walked out a little humbler from those sessions.

 

When Viktor felt up to it, they went back to the ice, and slowly Yuuri watched him crawl back from whatever darkness he’d been sucked into.  It was slow, but it was progress.

 

“So, what time have you put into getting yourself back on track?”

 

Yuuri started rolling balls out of the play-doh to make a snowman.  “Practice is progress for me.  It’s getting me back to normal.”

 

“You were practicing hard during your last relapse, weren’t you?”

 

Kya was really good at butchering Yuuri with her words.

 

“Yes, that’s right.”

 

“Alright.  Tell me, then, what you’ve been doing to help yourself get back on track.”

 

The snowman fell over on his lap, and he smooshed the hot pink figure satisfyingly between his fingers.

“Um… well, Viktor’s been having a little trouble lately.”

 

“Tell me about that, then.”

 

Yuuri launched into the story, recounting what happened save a few… delicate… details.  “He agreed to see someone once he finds a therapist that he likes.”

 

“I understand him not wanting to see me.  Someone like Viktor, who is used to suffering alone, wouldn’t take kindly to a brutally honest person across from them.”

 

Squishing the play-doh together again, Yuuri visibly relaxed.  He was worried that Kya would be offended.  

 

“So has he made an appointment?”

 

“Uh, huh?  Um, no, not yet, he says he will though…” Yuuri stuttered, forehead crinkling.

 

“He won’t make the appointment, Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri bristled, starting to form a heart with play-doh and dropping it.

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“Let’s give him one week.  Then we’ll make a plan together for how to get him help.  Until, then though, I need you to remember that you were hospitalized for self-injurious ideation not even a week ago.”

 

“I know,” Yuuri whispered, fingers shaking.  The accusations were making his fingers shake, and he was ripping apart the play-doh viciously now, kind of like how he wanted to tear apart…

 

“You want to hurt yourself right now, don’t you?”

 

Yuuri blinked, and he realized that his thumb nail had started scratching at his opposite wrist without conscious thought.

 

He put the play-doh back in the container and let his arms fall to his sides, defeated.

 

“Let’s walk through, step by step, how we went from me criticizing Viktor to you wanting to hurt yourself.  Let’s start with me criticizing Viktor.  What did that make you feel?”

 

“Defensive,” Yuuri said quietly, fighting the urge to scratch at himself more.

 

“Okay, how did we get from defensive to desiring to hurt yourself?”

 

Yuuri thought back.  First, he got defensive of Viktor, then… “I think then I realized that you might be right, and that I was a fool to think otherwise.”

 

Kya leaned forward then, her fingernails stilling in their tapping for the first time in ten minutes.  “Then?”

 

“I was angry at myself for thinking that I could believe him, when if I was in his shoes it would be like pulling teeth to get help.”

 

Yuuri sagged, continuing, “Then I thought that I was stupid, and decided I needed to be punished.”

 

His brain hurt.  He felt like he’d done a three hour jump training session with Viktor.  Who knew therapy was so exhausting?

 

“Okay,” Kya said, her mouth pulling up into a small smile, dark eyes glittering as they stared proudly at Yuuri.  “I can work with that.”

  
  


***

  
  


When Yuuri collapsed into the bed with Viktor, who was on his computer reading emails, Viktor smiled over at him.  

 

“Bad day?”

 

“No.  Therapy was very productive,” Yuuri grumbled, “I didn’t know that picking apart feelings would take so much energy.”

 

Viktor patted Yuuri’s back affectionately.  “You did it, though.  I’m proud of you.”

 

Yuuri thought back to what Kya had said.  “Viktor, have you given any thought to getting your own therapist?”

 

Blinking at Yuuri, he asked, “Why?”

 

Anger started bubbling up in Yuuri.  “What do you mean, why?”

 

“I’m fine now, Yuuri,” Viktor laughed, “I’ve felt better all day.  It won’t happen again for a while.  I’ve got all the time in the world.”

 

Sometimes Yuuri forgot how flippant Viktor was.  Sometimes he forgot that Viktor, despite being unbelievably understanding with Yuuri, was a forgetful narcissist.

 

Calming down for a moment, he sat up and gently lifted the laptop of Viktor’s lap, placing it onto the bedside table and straddling the Russian.

 

Viktor chuckled, placing his hands on Yuuri’s waist.  “I was going to complain, but if this is how I get to be distracted…”

 

Smiling, Yuuri leaned down and kissed Viktor harshly, biting his lip as he pulled away and gazing at the beautiful man, hair still a little damp from the shower and eyes dark in the dim lighting.

 

Viktor’s face was flushed, and he whispered Yuuri’s name as they came back together for the kiss.

 

“I want us to come up with a safe word,” Yuuri said softly, and Viktor’s face betrayed that he was not expecting that to be the topic of conversation.

 

Thoughtful for a moment, he asked, “how about a food?  What food do you hate?”

 

“Strawberries,” Yuuri said automatically, and Viktor nodded.

 

“Strawberry it is, then.”

 

Everything after that was hurried and desperate.  Viktor pulled Yuuri on top of him, molding his smaller body to his.  They were grinding up against each other through their pants, but eventually those were lost, too.

 

Once Yuuri had Viktor beneath him, and was stroking his cock leisurely, he whispered, “Who is in charge in here, Viktor?”  

 

Viktor moaned as Yuuri twisted his wrist.  Viktor had grabbed one of their shirts that they’d thrown aside and was biting it to contain his noises.  “You are.”

 

“Right.  I am,” Yuuri revelled in the power he had over the other man.  “Are you going to be a good boy for me, then?”

 

Nodding, Viktor sat up a little against the headboard, so that he could gaze up at Yuuri more clearly.  

 

“Say it.”

 

“Yes, I’ll be good,” Viktor purred, as Yuuri continued his work on the Russian’s painfully hardened cock.

 

“Do you want to come, Viktor?”

 

Viktor cursed as Yuuri lowered himself down so that his ass cheeks were rubbing against Viktor’s hardness.

 

“Hmm, yes.”

 

“Alright, under one condition.”

 

Yuuri stopped all his touching and held his hands up in the air, like he was surrendering, and Viktor gasped, pouting, “Yuuuuri, that’s so mean!”

 

“Call a therapist, Viktor.”

 

Viktor moved to touch himself, and Yuuri grabbed both his wrists and pinned them up against the headboard.

 

Viktor started struggling under Yuuri a little, but whispered, “God, that’s hot…”

 

“Viktor?”

 

Yuuri held both of Viktor’s wrists with one hand and ghosted his other hand over Viktor’s cock, giving it minimal attention, until Viktor was whining, whispering, “Fine.”

 

“Ha!  I win,” Yuuri pressed a kiss to Viktor’s forehead.  “I’ll remember this, by the way.”

 

“What if I forget on purpose so that you do something like this again?”

 

Yuuri laughed, letting his boyfriend’s wrists go and kissing Viktor softly.  “You don’t have to do that, love.  Just tell me that you were a bad boy.  Then I’ll have to punish you.”

 

Viktor pulled Yuuri down for a crushing kiss, and soon they continued what they started.

 

Viktor had flipped their positions so that he was hovering above Yuuri, now.  Yuuri peered up at Viktor, asking innocently, “Is it okay… if we get our hands on some toys to make playtime like that a little more fun?”  

 

Viktor was eyeing Yuuri’s body with his hungry eyes.  “You’re going to be the death of me, Yuuri Katsuki.”

 

Yuuri gasped as Viktor started kissing his way down Yuuri’s chest, and Yuuri whispered breathily, “I don’t know, death by orgasm seems like a good way to… shit!”

 

Yuuri bucked off the bed as Viktor bypassed Yuuri’s straining erection and pressed his tongue against the younger man’s hole.

 

“May I?” Viktor asked, batting his eyelashes at Yuuri.  

 

“I… haven’t cleaned myself out.  I wasn’t exactly prepared for this… rain check?”

 

Viktor nodded, moving back up to press kisses to the side of Yuuri’s shaft.

 

“I’ve wanted to get my mouth on this since last time.  It’s been too long.  I miss the way you taste…”

 

Viktor swirled his tongue around the head as Yuuri moaned in contentment.

 

“Viktor… I want you inside of me this time.”

 

Viktor chuckled with his mouth still on Yuuri’s member, sending funny vibrations that made Yuuri thrash around.

 

The older man pulled off with a pop.  “We’re into switching, are we?”

 

“Is that a bad thing?”

 

Viktor shook his head.  “No.  I like it both ways, too.”

 

Yuuri sighed as Viktor continued his careful worship of his cock, the Russian hollowing out his cheeks and pressing him farther in with each suck.

 

When Yuuri bucked into Viktor’s mouth, Viktor hummed deliciously, and Yuuri did it again, fucking up into Viktor’s mouth with fervor.

 

If the older man had a complaint, Yuuri wasn’t hearing it.

 

Yuuri’s brain was slowly losing its capability for rational thought.  The feeling of Viktor, hot and wet and perfect around him, made his whole body buzz with excitement, and knowing that he could let loose on the older man made him come right over to the edge.

 

When white split his vision and he felt his body soar with the orgasm, Viktor started spreading Yuuri’s legs, reaching into the side table and grabbing the lube.

 

While Yuuri was thoroughly blissed out from coming, Viktor licked his lips as he poured a generous amount of the clear lube onto his fingers and whispered, “Is it okay if I open you up now, love?”

 

Yuuri nodded, dazed and happily sated, feeling the sharp sting of something entering his hole.

 

“Oh,” Yuuri gasped, and Viktor stopped, keeping an eye on Yuuri’s face.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Yuuri nodded, the pain already filling his body with a pleasant sensation of euphoria.  

 

_ Oh, oh wait, this is the same as… _

 

Yuuri’s thought process was cut off as Viktor started moving again, making Yuuri gasp in pleasure at the stretch.

 

“I can stop…” Viktor said hesitantly.

 

Yuuri grabbed Viktor’s wrist, whispering hoarsely, “Don’t stop.  Never stop.”

 

When Viktor started scissoring Yuuri open, the sparks flying behind his eyes from the pain and pleasure mixed together were heavenly.  Once Viktor properly stretched him out and put a condom on, Yuuri waited patiently and pliantly.

 

Viktor pressed in slowly, making Yuuri hiss in appreciation.  Viktor wasn’t much bigger than Yuuri, but in that moment Yuuri took time to appreciate every millimeter of the girth.

 

It took almost a whole minute of gentle prodding before VIktor was fully seated inside Yuuri, and Yuuri was on another plane of existence with the euphoria that was swimming through his bloodstream.

 

Then, Viktor asked quietly, “Can I move?”

 

When Yuuri nodded, Viktor pulled out slowly, then snapped his hips back in.

 

Viktor was slow but harsh, making Yuuri see stars with each thrust.  Eventually Viktor flipped Yuuri onto his stomach and pressed in again, whispering, “Can I smack your ass, love?”

 

“I thought… nhh… I was in charge,” Yuuri gasped as Viktor snapped into him again.

 

“Tell me when to do it, then.”

 

Yuuri laughed a little bit, trying to stay present when his whole body was tugging him to get lost in sensation.  

 

“Hit me, Viktor.”

 

Viktor slapped Yuuri’s ass, and the sharp stinging sent goosebumps up his whole body. He moaned, “Harder.”

 

The older man obliged, smacking Yuuri again, this time making Yuuri scream out in ecstasy.  

 

“God, Viktor, just like that…”

 

Viktor kept up his slow but punishing thrusts, pairing every few with a hard slap, and Yuuri couldn’t even see because his eyes were watering because it  _ hurt so good _ …

 

Apparently, it hurt good enough that Yuuri was coming again without even getting any attention to his cock, and it made his whole body weaken, falling flat onto the mattress with Viktor .

 

Pausing as if he was going to pull out without finishing, Yuuri mumbled incoherently, “Don’t stop on my account…”

 

Chuckling, Viktor pressed kisses into Yuuri’s back, nudging his legs apart so that Viktor’s legs could wrap around them.  Then he wrapped his arms underneath Yuuri’s underarms and clutched at his shoulders, molding himself completely to Yuuri’s back while still inside of him.

 

Then, with the leverage of pulling Yuuri towards him, he plunged into his lover.

 

Yuuri started screaming his name, and if Viktor wasn’t so gone he would have been worried about waking up the family.  

 

They were _ both _ so far gone that they just didn’t care anymore.

 

When Viktor came, it was one of the most powerful orgasms of his life.  As he slumped over Yuuri, pressing kisses to the back of his neck, Yuuri whispered, “What the hell was that at the end?”

 

“I’m not sure.  It just felt right.”

 

As Yuuri breathed a blissed-out chuckle, Viktor dismounted his boyfriend and threw out the condom.

 

When Viktor turned around, he was met with a stunning sight.

 

Yuuri must have gotten excited again while Viktor was pounding into him, because Yuuri was stroking himself, lips parted, eyes closed.

 

Growling low in his throat, Viktor came over to help, but Yuuri whispered, “No.  Just watch.  No touching.”

 

Hands stilling, Viktor kneeled a foot away from Yuuri, completely distracted by the scene in front of him.  Yuuri was using his own spill from earlier as the lubrication, stroking himself up and down, giving extra attention under the head, occasionally reaching down with his two fingers closest to the base and pinching at his sack.

 

In a few moments Viktor was doing the same, suddenly excited again, watching Yuuri unblinkingly, because he could imagine doing all those things to Yuuri, wanted to memorize just the way that Yuuri liked to be pleasured so he could it himself…

 

Yuuri came first, squirting over his own chest, smiling widely.

 

Viktor followed soon after, spilling over Yuuri as well, and the younger man gaped at the sight of the comingling of semen.

 

Quickly getting up, Viktor whispered, “Sorry, Yuuri, I wasn’t really thinking…”

 

But Yuuri didn’t seem upset.  If anything, he blushed, reacting to the sight… positively.

 

“Unless…” Viktor whispered dangerously, “You like it when I come on you.”

 

Yuuri growled and sat up, pulling Viktor back towards him and kissing him long and slow.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Viktor teased, “Do you even want to wash off?”

 

After deliberating for a moment, Yuuri decided that he didn’t want it to dry non him, and they went to the shower together, washing each other delicately.

 

When they got back to the bed, they both took one whiff of the room and looked at each other, knowing that it smelled like sweat and sex.

 

They quickly threw on a fan and changed the sheets, collapsing into the clean bed moments later, Viktor enveloping Yuuri in a hug.

 

“Good night, Yuuri.”

 

“Don’t forget to call tomorrow, Viktor.  No more sex until you see a therapist.”

 

Viktor was suddenly wide awake, going pale as a ghost.

 

“What!?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, that happened. 
> 
> The next chapter will be very similar to this one, but from Viktor's perspective. 
> 
> As always, I love feedback. Drop me a kudos or a comment so I know if I'm doing something right/wrong <3


	16. Silver Showerhead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor meets his therapist and has to make a hard choice. Later, Viktor opens up to Yuuri about something from his past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my friends!
> 
> SIDEBAR: I just want to take the time to say thank you to everyone who has shared positive feedback. I'm the luckiest writer in the world. I was going through a pretty rough bout of depression these last few days, and your comments really helped to stave off the darkness. You are lovely. Between the comments, my crocheting, and my mom's blueberry pie, depression got its ass kicked pretty thoroughly. 
> 
> This chapter starts out difficult, becomes funny for a bit, and then turns pretty dark.
> 
> I will provide a summary of the events after the four "****" versus the normal three "***". After that point, if you do not feel comfortable reading, refer to the summary. It gets pretty hard to swallow.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING!!!! discussions of self harm, depression, anxiety, suicide attempts, difficult therapy and unhealthy coping. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Share your "no-no" topic with a mug of hot cocoa and a good cry. Then, watch Wonder Woman. That movie is lovely.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice, because I'd corrupt it pretty quickly

As Viktor sat in his therapist’s office, he crossed his arms, remembering the week that he had.

 

Yuuri was a vindictive asshole. His boyfriend was a little vixen all week, showing up naked whenever they were alone and not letting Viktor touch him, wearing his tightest clothes during practice.

 

The night before Viktor’s appointment, he woke up to the sound of his boyfriend panting next to him, stroking himself long and slow.

 

When Yuuri saw that Viktor was up, the tormentor laughed breathlessly.  “This could be you, you know.  Just go to your appointment and you can have me all to yourself.”

 

The second that Yuuri had taken sex off the table, Viktor called to make an appointment.  It wasn’t the  _ going _ that Yuuri had asked for, anyway, it was the calling.  Viktor didn’t have to show up.

 

When Yuuri pieced together that loophole, before Viktor managed to get him alone, Yuuri decided to increase the stakes.

 

“No sex until after your appointment.”

 

It made Viktor antsy, having so much pent up sexual frustration.  It was only worse because Yuuri had tasted Viktor, now.  He knew what Viktor liked.  He knew just how to tempt the man.

 

Yuuri even promised that they would do a little online shopping after the appointment to spice things up.

 

Viktor definitely wasn’t letting that one go.

 

“He’ll see you now, Viktor.”

 

The psychologist Viktor was seeing today was a thirty minute train ride from Hasetsu, but was very well-rated, and one of the few nearby that could do sessions in English.  When Viktor explained his situation on the phone, the man had agreed to take him in a week.

 

Which, Viktor wasn’t sure he could have lasted much longer.  His boyfriend was a sex fiend.

 

As he walked into Dr. Okuma’s office, he instantly relaxed.

 

It was all bamboo paneling, with a small fountain in the corner dribbling water.  The room smelled like lavender and vanilla, and the temperature was somewhere around 65 degrees.

 

Dr. Okuma smiled at Viktor, standing to greet him.  He was a short, balding man with small, bright eyes peering out from bushy eyebrows.  He came off as very academic, with his unkempt appearance and rolled up sleeves.

 

“Viktor, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person.  Sit,” he gestured to a recliner across from his office chair, which was spun around from his desk.  His Mac was open and off there, and Viktor wondered what he’d just been doing on it.

 

“Alright, Viktor, let’s jump right in.  I’m going to ask you some perfunctory questions about your medical and personal history.  This session is longer as it’s an introductory assessment, where I’ll be deciding what work needs to be done.”

 

He was laying out clear, concise directions, and Viktor loved when people were transparent like that.

 

“Sounds good.  Ask away.”

 

Dr. Okuma nodded, picking up a small clipboard and jotting some notes down.  “Alright, let’s start with family.  Describe your nuclear family to me, as in any immediately related siblings as well as parents.”

 

Viktor smiled.  “I was born to Ana and Leo Nikiforov.  My mother was a dancer.  My father was an investment banker.  He passed away when I was twelve, just as my skating career was getting underway.  My mother couldn’t care for me.  I had no siblings.”

 

Dr. Okuma nodded.  “Who did you live with, then?”

 

“My aunt Helda, for a time.  I was very close with my cousin, Ruslan, until he moved to France.  Then, when I turned seventeen, I moved out onto my own.”

 

The older man peered at Viktor curiously.  “That sounds like a very tumultuous childhood.”

 

Viktor shrugged.  “It was what it was.”

 

Without skipping a beat, the therapist asked, “Alright, then, what about abuse history?  Were any of these people cruel to you?”

 

The Russian glanced up at the clock.  It had only been four minutes.

 

“My aunt sometimes ignored me because she was overwhelmed, but never abused me.  My mother and father were kind to me.  They gave me what they could when they could.”

 

“So, other than moving around a lot, your childhood was normal?  What about friends?”

 

Viktor stared at the clock.  It had only been five minutes.

 

“I always had friends.”

 

“Anyone you could confide in?”

 

The questions were starting to dig under his skin.  Unthinkingly, he itched his arm.  “I said I had friends.”

 

“But, after your father died, did you confide in any of them how you were feeling?”

 

“I’m sure I did,” Viktor waved off, and the therapist switched gears.

 

“Tell me about your illness.”

 

“I, um, sometimes get… heavy… lethargic, low energy.  I don’t move or eat or talk really, except when I have to.  Everything… hurts, physically and emotionally, so the less I do, the less it… hurts.”

 

“You’re describing a few key symptoms of depression.  What about the others?  Do you have trouble sleeping, or sleep too much?”

 

Viktor was already bored, and he twiddled his thumbs impatiently, trying to keep his mind on what was waiting for him when he got home…

 

...an image of Yuuri writhing beneath him, wrecked…

 

“Viktor, I feel like I’m wasting your time.”

 

The Russian pulled himself out of his daydream, confused.  “What do you mean?”

 

“Your mind is clearly elsewhere.  Please make the decision, now, whether you’re here as some perfunctory measure to please loved ones or maybe a coworker, or if you’re here to learn about yourself and get better.”

 

_ I was here so Yuuri would fuck me. _

 

_ Maybe… that was a bad idea… _

 

“Can I be honest, Dr. Okuma?”

 

The therapist nodded, gazing at him intently.  He hadn’t taken down notes in a few minutes.

 

“My boyfriend refused to sleep with me until I got help.”

 

The good doctor looked stunned for a moment, then clutched his clipboard and let out a roar of laughter so loud that his secretary came in to check to make sure he was alright.

 

When the laughter died down, Viktor found that the situation would seem funny, to anyone who wasn’t about to crawl out of their skin for how horny they were.

 

Wiping a tear from his eye, Dr. Okuma nodded.  “That is fantastic.  I’ll have to write that boyfriend a thank-you note.  So you’re here to appease him, then?  Tell me about it.”

 

Viktor heaved a heavy sigh.  “That man is such a tease, I swear.  I come down with a little bout of depression for a few days and he insists that there’s something wrong with me.”

 

“Is there?  Something wrong with you?”

 

Biting his lip, Viktor felt himself deflate.  “I… don’t know.”

 

“If you want to find out, I can help you do that.  You have to be involved though.  Therapy is a two person job.  Are you in, or out?”

 

Vikor thought back to every time he went through a serious depression.  He thought back to every time he refused to enter a serious relationship, and the few horrifying times he  _ had _ .  He remembered drifting around in a fog for months after his father’s death.

 

There were so many things about himself that he didn’t understand, and had swept under the rug because most of the time it was too inconvenient or uncomfortable to talk about.

 

“I… think I’m in.”

  
  


**** (skip summary available)

  
  


When Viktor arrived home at noon, it was to a sound of music floating from his room.

 

Yuuri was sitting on his bed, in Viktor’s t-shirt, and a pair of boxers, with his laptop up.

 

“Oh good, you’re home.  I’ve already bookmarked some things for you to consider.”

 

Viktor sat down on the mattress, feeling so bloated with emotion and heavy that it was almost like falling back down into a depression again.

 

Therapy was fucking  _ hard _ .  Remembering things was painful.  Analyzing yourself and making inferences was time consuming.

 

“I… can we just… talk?”

 

Yuuri’s brown eyes met Viktor’s from behind the reflection on his glasses from the screen, and he set the laptop asie, crawling over to his boyfriend.

 

“It’s exhausting, isn’t it?  That’s how you know you did it right.  I’m really proud of you.”

 

Viktor was shaking.  He shed his pants so that he was in just his boxers and then took off his nicer shirt to throw on a sweatshirt that swallowed him just the right way.

 

He laid down on the mattress like that, curling into himself, feeling the phantom pains of all the horrible experiences he’d recounted.

 

They hadn’t even gone deep.  There wasn’t enough time.  It was just topical exploration, checking off boxes on assessment sheets.

 

Yuuri laid down next to Viktor, entwining his fingers with his and pulling his pale hand to his face, gently kissing the knuckles.

 

“What do you want to talk about?”

 

Viktor buried his face into the pillow.  “There’s so much… fucked up stuff that I’d never even paused to think whether it was affecting me or not.  And it has, Yuuri.  So much that I’ve ignored has changed me.”

 

“Is that bad?” Yuuri asked quietly, thumb rubbing reassuringly on Viktor’s fingers.

 

“No.  Yes.  I don’t… know yet.”

 

“Want to talk about some of it?”

 

Viktor nodded, but didn’t speak for a while, and Yuuri waited patiently, trying not to rush him.  

 

“When I was twelve my father died.”

 

Viktor knew that most people were aware of this, because it was very commonly discussed by the press.

 

“What no one knows, except me, is that my mother tried to commit suicide a few weeks after it happened.”

 

Viktor watched Yuuri’s expression go from horror to forced calm in moments.  It was always the reaction; people were appalled, until they remembered that they were supposed to be listening, not having opinions.

 

“My father and her were so in love.  Almost toxically so.  They fought like cats and dogs and loved each other so much that it hurt them.  My father died from a heart attack.  My mother… wasn’t stable without him.  They were like two playing cards balanced on each other.  When my father fell, she… well…”

 

Vikor felt detached, floating above himself, as he continued.  “I… I don’t know if you can hear this part, Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.  “Let me be here for you right now.  We can deal with me tomorrow.”

 

Smiling tightly, Viktor whispered, “I want a whole day of just taking care of you and talking about you.  Promise?”

 

Yuuri nodded, looking fondly back, then prodded, “Whenever you’re ready, love.”

 

Oh, right, this is the part where you’re supposed to start talking…

 

...talking about that thing that you’ve never put into words, that dangerous, no-no topic that shatters in your brain and embeds itself in the oddest parts of your memory, like how he can never look at Yuuri’s scars and not think of…

 

“When I told you I’d never dealt with cutting before, I was lying.  I have.  It’s just… never in a supportive capacity.”

 

The topic made the color drain from Yuuri’s face, but he maintained his composure.

 

“I… had practice that day.  Yakov was going to pick me up because he knew that my mother was useless in the weeks after my father passed.  I was getting ready and I went into my mother’s room to tell her I was leaving…”

 

Reality was shifting, slightly, like a skewed lens catching both what was directly in front of you and something else, something so much worse…

 

“I remember when I was opening the door that I was wearing white socks.  I hadn’t put my shoes on yet.  When I opened the door, I saw that my mother was laying in the bed, like normal.  

 

“She was… kind of propped up?” Viktor’s breath was coming in short gasps, and he took a moment to steady it.  “I thought she was sitting up.  I went over to talk to her…”

 

He couldn’t see Yuuri clearly, he saw a lot of grey as his mind’s eye invaded his vision he was dreaming.

 

“I was annoyed that she wasn’t responding except to mumble incoherently.  I… thought she was drinking again so I was pissed.  We had this really dark multicolored carpeting, right?  Then the carpet started getting all squishy…”

 

He could feel it under his toes in the present and he curled them, feeling like they were exposed, feeling something innately wrong about that, but his mouth kept moving even with that wrongness, “When I reached her I saw that she had slashed once of her wrists and had a few smaller cuts on her chest, right above her heart, like she was thinking about digging around in there for it…”

 

“Viktor, you can stop…”

 

“I just remember reaching out to her and shaking her and asking her why she did it and I still hadn’t figured out why the carpet was so wet and Yuuri  _ it hurt it hurt it hurt.” _

 

The words tumbled out of him, over and over, but when Yuuri tried to touch Viktor the man shied away, trembling, fingernails raking through his hair.

 

“I called for an ambulance.  Then I waited for Yakov outside, without putting my shoes on, but I had grabbed my skating bag, and he was trying to figure out why there were bloody footprints on the sidewalk, and then he saw that I had never closed the door.

 

“We never spoke about it, but he knew what it did to me.  It was… I felt so many different ways about it I couldn’t even possibly describe them.”

 

His boyfriend was watching him with wide eyes full of a thousand thoughts and none of them were good.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Yuuri blinked, and the thoughts disappeared and only his kind, chocolate eyes stared back.  “We’re focusing on you today, remember?”

 

“Yeah, yeah…”  Viktor was fighting so hard to stay in the present, to really see his Yuuri watching him with love and sadness, to feel the bed underneath him, but he was also  _ there _ , standing stock still outside his apartment, staring at traffic going by, counting the cars that passed without stopping, and when the ambulance came and they took her away, they had walked up to Viktor, and asked how he was.

 

“I’m fine,” Viktor said, his voice suddenly peppy, his face suddenly cheery, but he realized that all of that was said out loud, and Yuuri’s eyes widened in fear.

 

“Viktor, are you…”

 

He got up, like the bed was on fire, like Yuuri was poison, like so many metaphors that couldn’t capture the true wave of emotion that passed over Viktor’s face as a smile was plastered and his eyes brightened and if Yuuri hadn’t just heard the whole story and knew how badly Viktor was hurting he would have honestly believed him.

 

“I need to shower,” Viktor said cheerily, grabbing his towel and heading to the hall

 

He fell apart in there, instead.  It’s safer to fall apart alone.  Falling apart with Yuuri during his depression episode was because he didn’t have enough energy to care, but now, if Yuuri saw Viktor this weak, this vulnerable…

 

...it would make Viktor realize that those descriptors were true…

 

Sobs ripped out of him, and then, after a few minutes, a scary calm dawned on him, and he looked up, eyes blank and face emotionless.

 

He mechanically finished his shower, emotions successfully stowed away, and skipped right past his room to the kitchen, where Hiroko was finishing serving lunch.

 

“Vicchan!  I was going to make some muffins for later.  Want to help?”

 

The emptiness, the emotionless expanse, needed to be around people.  Viktor smiled fakely, because he knew that though he didn’t feel any way about it now, Viktor loved cooking with Hiroko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SKIPPING HUMANS:
> 
> Hello! Welcome to the summary. Essentially, Viktor explains that his father passed away, and that his mother subsequently attempted suicide by slashing her wrist. Viktor tells Yuuri that he had found her, and that it was really hard on him. Viktor gets uncomfortable and goes to break down in the shower instead of relying on Yuuri. 
> 
> Poor baby. I just want to make a Viktor burrito and feed him chocolate.
> 
> I needed to make sure that I covered Viktor's backstory a little more. Every fic has their concept of why Viktor was always so alone. This is my take. 
> 
> I'm pretty sure that this fic is going to keep going for a while. I already have a decent amount planned out and written. 
> 
> Thank you so much for being wonderful <3
> 
> If you like this fic, check out my other YOI fics, "The Picture of Yuri Plisetsky" (completed) and the "Across Time and Space" series (ongoing).


	17. Silver Crochet Hook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor try to sort through the change in dynamic of their relationship. Later, Yuuri and Viktor connect on a deeper level

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hello there!
> 
> So I've planned up to a thirtieth chapter of this fic? So be ready to go up to and probably past the Cup of China, and most likely to the end of the season. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of anxiety, depression, and self harm. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Meditate to your happy place. Describe your happy place in excruciating detail to the loved one. 
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

When Yuuri woke up the next morning, alone in his bed, his heart ached.  

 

Viktor hadn’t exactly told him to stay away, but instead had acted like nothing had happened, and every time Yuuri tried to steal him away to talk about it more, Viktor found a reason not to.  

 

A little tired and very much anxious, he’d fallen asleep in his bed, wondering what he had done wrong.

 

Now, staring up at the ceiling, he remembered his assignment from Kya.  They had decided to have sessions once a week due to his training schedule, and since his last appointment she had told him that if he didn’t come up with new coping skills, she would pick some for him.

 

Yuuri didn’t want to leave his bed.  If he left his bed, he was out _there_ , in the real world, where his boyfriend was pretending that everything was fine, where he was walking on eggshells, where he couldn’t stop thinking about the idea of tearing into his veins…

 

It was right after Viktor had talked about his mother attempting suicide.  The thought of it, slicing up his arm, dug into his thoughts and invaded everything else.  

 

Now, he knew that if he got up, there was a risk that he’d hurt himself.

 

Picking up his phone grumpily, he googled _coping skills_.

 

There was a cute article done by a blogger who listed all the coping skills she liked and didn’t and why.  Yuuri scrolled through the list.  He only needed three.

 

_Coloring, crocheting, running, writing in a journal, playing an instrument, cooking, cleaning, listening to music…_

 

_I do half of these already just practicing and helping out around the onsen._

 

_Focus on things that will work with training._

 

Yuuri pulled a pad and pen from his desk, scribbling down a short list of the coping skills that could work around his training schedule.

 

Then he started crossing some off.  There ended up being ten on the list.

 

He figured out that he could try a few today.  

 

He could start with yoga.  Yuuri threw on an athletic outfit and grabbed his mat from stretching at competitions.

 

Setting up in the garden, he flipped to a YouTube video of a yoga instructor going through beginner poses.

 

Most of them were a walk in the park between his core strength and dancer flexibility.  Instead of the difficulty he focused on the breath like his instructor was telling him to.

 

When his brain started diverting to the thought of hurting himself, he breathed through the thoughts and focused instead on the stretch and the careful positioning of his body.

 

By the end of the session, he knew he’d figured out at least one.

  


***

  


As Yuuri walked in with art supplies, Viktor finally sought him out, bemused.

 

“What’s all this?”

 

“It’s a me day, remember?”

 

Viktor beamed.  “We have practice later in the afternoon.  What do you want to do until then?”

 

Dropping the pile of supplies onto the coffee table, he said simply, “Coping.”

 

They set to work together.  There was an uneasy tension from the night before, but quickly it was diffused as they set to work sorting through the supplies.  Yuuri picked up the materials to crochet, color, paint, knit, as well as countless others.

 

Viktor didn’t ask about why they were doing this; he didn’t have to.  Yuuri was focused on the task at hand.  Painting was quickly given up as he couldn’t find any inspiration.  Surprisingly, he found that crocheting, after the fumbling of the first few strokes, eased his mind.

 

Slamming down his barely done scarf defiantly, he exclaimed, “Two!”

 

Viktor raised his eyebrow, silver hair falling idly in his face.  “You needed three, right?”

 

Yuuri was surprised that his boyfriend had remembered.  “I have yoga, crocheting, and I need one more.”

 

Thoughtful for a moment, he asked, “Does running not count?”

 

“They need to be new,” Yuuri said calmly, combing through the art supplies for another idea.

 

Viktor took Yuuri’s hand, and gently pulled the other man to his feet.  Confused for a moment, Viktor muttered, “is dancing one?”

 

Nodding, Yuuri explained, “I’ve been dancing for years, though, it won’t be…”

 

The Russian took one of Yuuri’s hands in his own and laid his other on Yuuri’s waist.  Yuuri felt his skin tingling from the contact, the memories of what those hands had done to his body sending pleasant shivers down his spine.

 

“Let’s swing dance,” Viktor said eagerly, then let go of Yuuri for a moment to flip through his phone to find the right station, then set it down and took up his position again.

 

“Alright, the basic step is rock-step tri-ple-step…”

 

They fumbled through the basic counts, and Viktor kept pulling Yuuri this way and that, twirling him with laughter and a few “oofs” from stumbling around.

 

Eventually, they fell into step, and Viktor pressed a soft kiss to Yuuri’s forehead.

 

“We don’t always have to talk,” Viktor said calmly, and it dawned on Yuuri then.  

 

Viktor cooking with Hiroko, Viktor going on runs and walking Makkachin.  Sometimes coping wasn’t talking.  Sometimes Viktor didn’t need to talk to Yuuri or explain where his headspace was at.  Viktor had his own ways of coping.  Yuuri just had to trust him to do them, and that he’d talk when he was ready.

 

Sometimes talking wasn’t the answer.  Sometimes there was just as much healing done in _not talking_ , in living your life despite all the swirling darkness.

 

Yuuri leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together.  “I think I found number three.”

  


***

  


Yuuri finished his free skate run through, and Viktor was beaming, leaning against the wall of the rink with Yuuko.  “That was great!  Your spin was a little shaky though.  Usually you’re great at those.  Run through it again.”

 

Nodding, Yuuri reset himself, calming himself down.

 

Having Viktor not talk to him the last few days had been... trying.  Viktor had gone to see his therapist that week, but still hadn’t talked at all about his deeper feelings to Yuuri since last week.  It was making Yuuri uneasy, not knowing where Viktor’s head was at, and it was shredding his anxiety up.

 

Kya and him discussed how to divert his urges last time when this topic arose.  Since then he’d crocheted three scarves, and had done yoga every day.  In the evenings after dinner, Yuuri and Viktor laughed their way through dancing.  It made him feel close to Viktor, despite the emotional distance.

 

Neither of them had been up to making love.  Instead, they kissed each other reverently and slept tangled together, conveying a different type of intimacy.

 

Though it was trying, he knew that it’s what Viktor needed.  

 

He finished off his run through of the free skate, and Viktor nodded, pleased.

 

“That was good.  Tomorrow I want us to clean up your presentation, though.  You’re still too focused on the components.  It shows.”

 

Nodding, Yuuri skated over and grabbed his water bottle.  

 

After practice, Mari drove Yuuri to Dr. Yamada’s.  The office was just as purple as he remembered.

 

Dr. Yamada was smiling at him when he walked in.

 

“I have to say, Yuuri, when I got a call from your therapist I was pleasantly surprised.”

 

Blushing a little, Yuuri settled into the couch, pulling out a hat that he was working on.

 

“Coping skill,” he said in way of explanation, “It gives my hands something to do.  I’m building something up instead of tearing myself down.’

 

Yuuri continued the calming strokes and pulls of the yarn as Dr. Yamada watched him carefully.

 

“How have the new meds been?  Felt any better?”

 

Yuuri thought about how he’d been doing in the last two weeks.  “It’s like… the edge is taken off?  I still get anxious, and I still occasionally have urges, but my thoughts aren’t as… linear.  I can see more options than just cutting.  Also, my body feels less tense all the time.”

 

Dr. Yamada nodded, noting it on her paper.  “That’s great, Yuuri.  I’m going to keep you on this medication for at least three more weeks.  I want to see you then, because by that point you should be feeling their full effects.  Deal?”

 

Nodding, Yuuri continued his hat.

 

“You mentioned that you have had urges, but you’ve been able to cope with them.  What’s been triggering you?”

 

Sighing, Yuuri’s fingers stilled.  “Viktor has been dealing with a lot of stuff too.  We’re both in a weird place, and we’re trying to support each other while trying to help ourselves.”

 

Dr Yamada nodded.  “Do you think that you two are impeding each other’s progress?”

 

Yuuri thought back to dancing with Viktor, how at peace he felt.  He thought to watching Viktor cook with Hiroko, and how full of love he got when the two of them bonded.

 

He thought of waking up before his alarm and getting to watch Viktor sleep, face slack and beautiful, and how everything seemed so unbelievably perfect.

 

“I… I think that he’s helping me, at least.  Being with him helps a lot.  The stuff he’s going through would be affecting me whether or not we were dating.”

 

Dr Yamada jotted down some more notes.  “I need you to be actively checking up on that, though.  With your recent relapse I need you to be worried about _you,_ right now.  If you two are too tangled up in each other, you won’t end up helping yourselves.”

  


***

  


When Yuuri got home, Viktor was sitting in the living room with Makkachin.  Viktor was petting her and whispering to her, burying his face in her fur.

 

While watching, a slow smile spread on Yuuri’s face.  

 

“Having fun?”

 

Viktor looked up, blue eyes bright.  “My Yuuri!  Makka, look who is back!”

 

The dog hopped up and galloped over to Yuuri, knocking him back a little as she hopped up to lick his face.

 

Yuuri laughed, giving the dog some much needed love, before Viktor followed up behind her and pressed his own kiss to Yuuri’s lips.

 

“How was Dr. Yamada’s?”

 

Yuuri reached out for Viktor’s hand and laced his fingers with his, using his other hand to continue to pet Makka.  “We think I’m on the right medicine for now.  We’re going to check back up on it in a few weeks.”

 

Viktor nodded.  “So I’ve been going through some costume ideas for your free program…”

 

Blinking, Yuuri whispered, “I completely forgot…”

 

“No worries!  I have some ideas,” he guided Yuuri to his laptop, which had a few designs bookmarked.

 

One was a pink suit, which Yuuri immediately grimaced at.  “No pink.”

 

“But whyyy?”

 

Yuuri’s eyes narrowed.  “I hate the color pink on me.  No pink.”

 

Sighing, Viktor closed out of four tabs and grumbled, “Alright, the options have been narrowed…”

 

Mari wandered by, and Viktor perked up.  “Mari, come help us decide!”

 

She was chewing gum loudly and wandered over to the couch, sitting on the armrest.  “What are we looking at?”

 

“Free program costumes,” Yuuri explained, eyes widening at one with a mesh back and neckline that plunges to almost his navel.  “Viktor, that one can’t possibly be allowed…”

 

Pouting, Viktor closed out of that tab too.  “You’re no fun, Yuuri.”

 

They tabbed through a few, until Mari stopped Viktor on one of them.  Viktor gasped,  “That one would make your ass look great, Yuuri!” Viktor smiled at Mari.  “Good eye!”

 

“It’s one of your greatest assets,” Mari agreed, and Yuuri slumped down onto the couch, mortified.

 

Studying the costume closely, however, he found that he did like the design.  It had jewels spotting the back, and it came in a few different colors, including dark blue.

 

“Let’s mark that one as a possible entry,” Yuuri said timidly, and Viktor tackled Yuuri in a hug.  

 

They looked at a few more options, some of which were definitely not going to get past JSF requirements, and one that made Mari laugh so hard that she fled the room.

 

“Viktor, I can’t wear a mesh suit with just a pair of boxers,” Yuuri’s mouth was hanging open at the sight of the costume.

 

“Hmm, you’re right, it doesn’t fit your theme,” Viktor said thoughtfully, and exited out of the tab.

 

“...that’s the argument?”  Yuuri gaped at Viktor, who was looking innocently back at him.  

 

“Alright, I think this one wins.”

 

They filled out the order form for the designer that Viktor picked out and settled back into the couch, sinking towards each other, not wanting to move.

 

“So, Yuuri,” Viktor began, and Yuuri tensed.  They hadn’t talked about anything other than skating and topical subjects in days.  Viktor’s voice was dripping with deeper meaning.

 

“Yes?”

 

“That trip to Russia I have to make to help clean up Yurio’s short program…”

 

Oh, right.  The trip that Yuuri agreed to.  Biting his lip, he muttered, “When?”

 

“I booked the tickets for next Monday.  I’ll come back Saturday morning.  That gives me a solid five days to work with him.”

 

Yuuri felt himself start to panic.  That’s almost a whole week without Viktor by his side.  It seemed possible a few weeks ago, but now…

 

“I need to do this, Yuuri,” Viktor said softly, pulling away from Yuuri’s side and taking his hands.  “With everything that’s been going on with the two of us, I think a week of just focusing on ourselves will be good for us.”

 

It was just like Dr. Yamada had said, about focusing on themselves.  “Okay.  We can do this, then.”

 

Yuuri sounded a lot more confident than he felt.

 

Viktor pulled Yuuri in for a kiss, and he felt at ease.  When they broke apart, Yuuri whispered, “Could we… make love tonight?  I think I need to feel that connection with you.”

 

Eyes softening, Viktor nodded, pressing another kiss to Yuuri’s head.  “I would love that, Yuuri.”

  


***

  


When they collapsed into the bed later that night, Yuuri straddled Viktor and started pressing kisses to Viktor’s neck, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses that made Viktor feel like he was dissolving in love.  

 

Yuuri pulled back and let Viktor gently remove his glasses and start kissing down his neck, biting at Yuuri’s collarbone.  When Yuuri gasped, Viktor grinned against the skin there.  

 

“I think this is somewhere I have to keep in mind for future,” Viktor continued along Yuuri’s body until he had to pull off his shirt, continuing to press soft kisses down Yuuri’s chest.

 

“I want to be inside you tonight,” Yuuri whispered, gasping sporadically when Viktor nipped and licked at just the right places.

 

Viktor grinned.  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

 

Continuing his licking and biting, Yuuri whispered, “We never went shopping for those toys.”

 

Groaning, Viktor started laughing.  “You want us to stop?”

 

“No,” Yuuri grumbled.  “Maybe I’ll surprise you with something when you get back from Russia.  Do you have any boundaries or no-no’s I should know about?”

 

Viktor paused, moving to hover over Yuuri’s face.  His hair fell around his pale, blushing face, and his blue eyes were unbelievably tender.  “I wouldn’t be opposed to restraints, or dressing up.  Just nothing super… extreme?”

 

Cocking an eyebrow, Yuuri asked, “How about… whips?”

 

That threw Viktor for a loop.  “... who would be whipping who?”

 

“I would want you to whip me.”

 

Viktor blinked stupidly, his blush spreading wider.  “Yuuri, how many secret kinks do you have?”

 

Embarrassed, Yuuri glanced away.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

 

Viktor shushed him suddenly, guiding him to look back up into his blue eyes.

 

“I love you, Yuuri Katsuki.  Nothing you could ever say would make me think anything less of you.  I want to know it all.”

 

“What… what did you say?”

 

Viktor pressed a lingering kiss to his nose.  “I love you, Yuuri Katsuki.”

 

Still not believing it, Yuuri asked, “Say it again?”

 

“I…” Viktor pressed a kiss to his jaw, “love…” pressed a kiss to his forehead, “you…” he kissed Yuuri full on the lips, tender, unhurried.  

 

“I love you, too,” Yuuri whispered, tears springing to his eyes.  “You know, we haven’t ever said that before?”

 

Smiling, Viktor pressed more kisses to Yuuri’s face, until he was laughing hysterically underneath him at the ridiculousness.  

Giddy, Yuuri flipped their positions so that Yuuri was kneeling in Viktor’s lap, grinding down into his crotch, creating friction where he needed it most.  His stomach was fluttering with love; it was akin to feeling high.

 

Viktor bit at Yuuri’s lip, then pulled away to tug his own shirt off.  They slowly worked each other’s clothes off with kisses and hugs and laughter when Viktor’s one pant leg wouldn’t come off, but eventually Yuuri was hovering over Viktor, licking deliciously up his thighs.

 

“I love the way your skin tastes,” Yuuri whispered, biting playfully at the skin on his inner thigh, “I can’t ever get enough.”

 

Viktor was grinning preciously at that, like Yuuri had just told him that he loved him all over again.

 

Bending over to the bedside table, Yuuri pulled out the lube, spreading some generously on his fingers, before coming back to Viktor and pressing his finger by the Russian’s opening.

 

“May I?” Yuuri asked huskily, and Viktor nodded frantically.

 

Yuuri pressed in, and simultaneously started stroking Viktor’s cock in time with his finger moving.  He added a second finger, then a third, and Viktor was panting frantically underneath him, whispering, “Yuuri, if you want me to last you need to slow down…”

 

Smiling, Yuuri stopped his attention to Viktor’s cock and focused solely on getting his lover ready.  Once Viktor was stretched, he slid the condom on and bent Viktor over almost in half.  Then, he lined up his member to the entrance and pushed in.

 

Viktor bucked up at the sensation, his cock rubbing against his own legs.  Yuuri bent over so that he could make eye contact with Viktor, and found the Russian gazing widely at him, completely debauched, gorgeously in love.

 

They kissed sweetly, then, and Yuuri started moving.

 

Yuuri had noticed it before, but making love to Viktor felt different than every other type of sex he had had.  Maybe he just hadn’t ever done it with someone he loved before, or maybe it was that he trusted Viktor with all his desires and secrets.  Viktor loved every facet of Yuuri, and Yuuri was honored to be able to share those parts of himself with someone so perfect.

 

Yuuri set a slow, leisurely pace.  He wanted this to last, wanted them begging to come by the end of it, wanted to feel so completely blissed out by the connection.  

 

When Yuuri angled his hips the right way, Viktor started moaning, and Yuuri swallowed down the moan with a kiss, taking gentle care to hit that same spot a few times.  He was unhurried, and soon Viktor was whispering in Russian words that Yuuri would have to get translated later.

 

It felt so fresh, despite it not being their first time together.  They knew each other’s bodies now, so it felt like a whole new world.

 

When Yuuri’s mind started to fuzz out from the feeling, his desperation became a little more pitched.  Pulling a pillow over, he propped Viktor’s hips up to get better access, and started a faster pace.  Yuuri’s own breath was coming in short gasps and leaving him with a whimper each time, Viktor’s hole squeezing around him in just the right way.  

 

The room was filled with the squelching sound of the lube dripping between them, and the noise alone would have made Yuuri giggle, if he weren’t so close...

 

Instead, it sent him over the edge.  

 

He spilled inside of Viktor, and starting stroking Viktor’s cock between them, riding out his orgasm.  Viktor didn’t last long after that, eventually spilling across his stomach.

 

When Yuuri pulled out, he quickly disposed of the condom and came back to the bed.  Without missing a beat, he started licking at Viktor’s chest, lapping up the liquid there.  Viktor groaned, throwing his forearm over his face.

 

“Yuuri, you’re going to get me excited again…” Viktor gasped out, and Yuuri paused in his licking, a dribble of come sliding down his chin, eyebrow cocked.  

 

“Did I say we were done yet?”

 

Blinking, Viktor whispered, “No, you haven’t.”

 

“Do you want to be done?”

 

Viktor shook his head suddenly, still focused on Yuuri’s chin…

 

“Good.  I’m not finished with you just yet,” Yuuri lapped up the rest of Viktor’s spill, then pressed kisses around his chest, biting lightly at his nipples, sucking marks into his hips...

 

“Yuuri, you’re insatiable,” Viktor whispered breathily.

 

Yuuri peered at Viktor’s blue eyes, pupils blown and hazy, asking, “Is that a bad thing?”

 

“No,” Viktor said suddenly, lips red from kissing.  “It just makes loving you that much more enjoyable.”

 

“I just can’t get enough of you, Viktor,” Yuuri said then, feeling immensely vulnerable.  “I love you so much that it scares me.”

 

Stopping, Yuuri came up on his knees and leaned back, taking in what he had just said, eyes going wide with panic.  

 

“I… oh,” he whispered, as tears started to gather in his eyes.

 

Viktor got up immediately, looking a little sore but otherwise fine.  Yuuri could feel the world around him getting smaller, the bed disappearing out from under him, the tips of his fingers tingling…

 

“Yuuri, baby, stay with me,” Viktor coaxed, “I need you to breathe with me.  In, one, two, three, out, one, two, three.”

 

Shaking, Yuuri nodded, face flushed of color and eyes unfocused.

 

It took a few moments, and Yuuri’s heart was still racing uncomfortably, but he was able to speak.  

 

“I’m… sorry.  I think I just got a little overwhelmed.  I was worried that we were getting too dependent, and when I said that it made me think…”

 

“Shh,” Viktor said softly, lifting Yuuri’s hands to his pink lips and kissing them gingerly, “We’ll work on it, love.  We’ll find a balance.  It doesn’t all just happen overnight.  We have to work on it.”

 

Nodding, Yuuri felt his throat start to close up again, whispering, “What… what if we can’t?  What if I’m like this forever…”

 

“Stop,” Viktor said, a little sharper than he intended, then backtracked.  “Sorry, but I need you to stay here, in this moment with me, Yuuri.  We just made love.  We just connected on a deep level, from saying ‘I love you’.  Of course you’re going to be a little emotionally raw.  Despite that, stay with me, here.  Could we lay down on the bed, and I hold you?”

 

Nodding, Yuuri laid down and took one of the pillows and clutched it to him, to ground him.  Viktor settled in behind him, slotting his legs with Yuuri’s, pressing kisses into the back of his neck and hair, whispering reverently in Russian.

 

“ _I love you, Yuuri Katsuki.  I love every side of you, including this one.  I need you to let me.”_

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK they said the thing! These two are too cute I can't even.
> 
> Next time: Yuuri has a bad day and tries his best to get through it.
> 
> If you like this, check out my other YOI fics! There are quite a few now. Enjoy!


	18. Silver Candlesticks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is having trouble sorting through his feelings. Then, Yuuri and Viktor prepare for Viktor's trip to Russia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends!
> 
> Long time no see! I've taken a little longer to update because I was at NYCC yesterday! It was so much fun. I saw people dressed as Viktor and Yuuri, and bought some YOI art as inspiration!
> 
> I spent way too much money, between LOK and YOI merch, but it was all worth it because it made me very, very happy!
> 
> Self care comes in all shapes and sizes.
> 
> So, this chapter is the one before Viktor leaves. The next two will be separate chapters from each of our lovely gentleman's point of view: Viktor, and then Yuuri. You'll have a pretty good idea of why I did that after you get to read them.
> 
> My updates might be scarce until after Thursday, as I'm taking the GRE (eeeeeeeeek) and when I wasn't making my NYCC costume this week, I was studying. Wish me luck, keep me in your prayers, and scream at me if I update before then because I SHOULD BE STUDYING
> 
> Anyway, here are our lovely boys, but first...
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of anxiety and depression. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, please reach out to a loved one. Go to the park with the loved one and pet all the dogs! Fifty points if you pet a poodle b/c YOI is life
> 
> As usual, I don't own Yuri! on Ice, though I do now own a YOI wall scroll. I have no self control. Bye

Before Yuuri knew it, he was sitting in Kya’s office the next day, chewing nervously on his lip.

 

When she brought him in, he started fidgeting with his crocheting immediately, and she frowned at him.

 

“Are you alright today, Yuuri?”

 

Shaking his head, his fingers struggled to stay still enough to loop through his stitches, but he remained stubborn enough to try.

 

“Last night I had a pretty bad anxiety attack, and it… hasn’t really _gone away,_ ” Yuuri’s voice broke a little at the end, and he finished his sentence in a hush.

 

Kya tapped her fingernails then, looking displeased.  “Can you tell me what triggered this?  We had done so much positive progress.”

 

“We have,” Yuuri said loudly, fumbling through another stitch and throwing his crocheting down on the ground, defeated.  Bringing his knees to his chest, he continued, “I’ve been doing so well and then last night I told Viktor I loved him and that it was scary how much I loved him and now I feel like I love him too much, and that I’m just going to get hurt and crash and burn and end up relapsing again…”

 

Kya’s eyes grew steadily wider as Yuuri’s anxiety was laid out very explicitly on the table.

 

“Okay, Yuuri, I need you to stop for a minute…”

 

“... but what if when he’s gone I can’t handle it?  What if I miss him so much and feel so alone and can’t deal and end up hurting myself again?  He’ll be gone for whole week.  He’ll be back in Russia, with his friends, and maybe he’ll realize that he doesn’t want to keep living with me anymore…”

 

“Yuuri!”

 

Kya’s voice was loud, and it stunned Yuuri enough that he froze in his rambling, staring at her with wide eyes.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears forming in his eyes.  “God, no, I need to stop _crying_ I feel so _weak_ right now…”

 

“Okay,” Kya leaned back, “You feel weak.  Why?”

 

“Because I’m crying.  I already explained that.”

 

“No.  You explained that you were crying and that you felt weak.  However, you didn’t specify what about crying made you weak.  Could you tell me?”

 

Yuuri searched, and pulled out, “I feel like I can’t handle my own emotions.”

 

“Why is that bad?  Why does that make you weak?  Isn’t that why you’re here?”

 

Yuuri tightened his grip on his knees, whispering, “I guess so, yeah.”

 

“Okay, then.  So does coming here make you weak?”

 

When Yuuri nodded, Kya sighed.

 

“Yuuri, do you think Viktor is weak for seeing a therapist?”

 

“No,” he said automatically, then thought back, yelping, “Hey, you tricked me!”

 

Kya shook her head, jotting some notes.  “I didn’t trick you.  I pointed out a clear misassociation that came about via your anxiety talking, not your rational mind.  Your rational mind knows that therapy does not make you weak.  You anxiety is telling you the opposite, but only in reference to yourself.  It’s basically saying that it’s fine if other people go to therapy, but Yuuri Katsuki is weak for doing it.”

 

Picking his crocheting back up, Yuuri felt a little numb, like the emotional state he’d been maintaining had drained out of him all at once, all the anxiety dripping to the floor and a hollow feeling took its place.  Now that his fingers weren’t shaking anymore, he continued working on his hat.  

 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Kya said, “Yuuri?  What do you think about what I said?”

 

Yuuri shrugged.

 

“Think on it, Yuuri Katsuki.  Let it sink in.  Then, we’ll work through the rest of it.”

 

***

 

When Yuuri got to practice, he was completely devoid of all emotion.

 

He’d had “drops” after therapy, but this was both a drop after an anxiety attack and a drop from therapy simultaneously.  

 

He felt unbelievably empty and exhausted, and everything was shades of grey around him. 

 

When Viktor skated up to his boyfriend, he tipped Yuuri’s chin up to stare into his chocolate eyes thoughtfully.  Yuuri felt a small stirring of emotion from looking up into Viktor’s eyes, but nothing compared to the rush of affection he normally felt.  It was like someone had robbed him of his emotions, love for Viktor and all.

 

“Bad session?”

 

Nodding, Yuuri asked, “I think I just need to skate it off.  Tell me what I’m working on, coach.”

 

Yuuri ran through basic figures and worked on his jump combinations, tightening up the entries and seeing if there was any wiggle room to increase the difficulty.  It was arduous, but it kept Yuuri’s blood pumping and himself moving, eliminating any time for rumination.

 

When they got back to the onsen, Yuuri immediately found his father and asked what there was to do around the house.

 

“You can always clean the men’s locker room.  I was going to do it, but if you’re offering…”

 

Nodding, Yuuri went to the back room and pulled out the materials he would need.  When Viktor found him, he explained what he was doing, pulling on a face mask.

 

“I’ll go help Hiroko with cooking, then,” Viktor said brightly, “We’re making chicken cordon bleu!”

 

Yuuri went to the locker room and put up the “cleaning” signs, then checked to make sure no one was in the bath.  This late in the day, most guests were out exploring the town.  Then, he locked the door.

 

Yuuri started by sweeping up all the hair and and garbage from the ground.  Then he mopped, careful to get into each little nook and cranny.

 

The soothing, consistent motions of the cleaning were calming, creating a sense of responsibility.  He was contributing to something, and doing something good.  No matter what anxiety he felt, no matter how empty he felt, this was something good that he was doing, something productive.

 

When he finished, he felt sore and wary, but a little calmer.

 

That night, as Viktor and him snuggled into bed, Yuuri silently moved his hands over Viktor’s body.  Viktor closed his eyes and let him.  Yuuri’s fingers skimmed over his shoulders, and felt out each of his abdominal muscles.  His fingers were sketching out his lover’s body, taking it in, relishing in his beautiful, pale skin.  The lights were dim, and though Yuuri still felt numb, Viktor's trust was slowly stirring something inside of him, coaxing a blackened piece of wood back to flame.

 

Viktor remained loose and quiet on the bed.

 

It wasn't going anywhere further.  There wasn't any secret motive.  Yuuri wanted his hands to remember Viktor, to know everything about him, even the littlest freckle, even the crescent scar on his knee.

 

If he was going to have trouble with his feelings for Viktor when he was in this emotional state, he would feel his lover in other ways. 

 

When they fell asleep that night, Yuuri dreamed that he was traveling into Viktor’s heart, mapping out the nooks and crannies, planting flowers where he stepped.

 

***

 

Viktor woke Yuuri up on the day before he was leaving with a peppering of kisses to his abdomen, before whispering, “Yuuri, let me make you feel good.”

 

Still a little sleep addled, and relieved that he no longer felt the crushing emptiness from the day before, his brain didn’t fully comprehend what was going on until Viktor’s fingers starting teasing at his sweatpants.

 

Nodding sleepily, he lifted his hips for Viktor to pull his pants down and took tender time to take Yuuri into his mouth and subsequently apart, humming and sucking, biting at his inner thighs, massaging his ass and legs as he went.

 

When Yuuri finished, he whispered, “Hmmm, you’ve set the bar high.  I expect my coach to wake me up like this every day.”

 

Chuckling, Viktor licked up Yuuri’s abdomen to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss there.  “We can switch off every other day.”

 

“Or we can rock paper scissors the night before.”

 

Viktor sat up, tapping his lip in thought.  “Oh!  I know!  We should make a sexual wake-up jar and put every way we want to be woken up and that way we can keep it exciting!”

 

Snorting, Yuuri leaned up and kissed Viktor, the two of them smiled at their joined lips, making the kiss a little awkward but just as sweet.  “I love you, Viktor Nikiforov.”

 

They hadn’t said it since that night, with Yuuri’s anxiety about it, and Viktor’s face flushed, blue eyes brightening.

 

It was like the first time all over again.

 

“I love you too, Yuuri Katsuki.”

 

***

 

They had a longer practice than usual that day, because they wouldn’t be working together for a week.  Yuuri was feeling the pressure by the end of it, and flubbed his third attempt at a salchow in a row, tumbling onto the ice and crying out.

 

“Yuuri!” Viktor yelled, skating over to him and kneeling next to him.  “Are you alright,   _solnishko_?”

 

Moaning, Yuuri slammed his fist down onto the ice, taking a deep breath before he got up and started back around the rink for another try.

 

“Yuuri, slow down!  I didn’t even get to check to see if you were injured.  You could exacerbate…”

 

Launching up again, Yuuri put his hand down on the ice then lost his balance, landing flat on his back and sliding, staring up at the ceiling with a grimace.

 

When Viktor reached him, this time it was with annoyance.  “Are you done?”

 

“No,” Yuuri mumbled feebly, sitting up and rubbing his knee.  “I just think I bruised it before.”

 

“No more jumps today, okay?  Give it time to heal.  Competitions are still weeks away, and you were landing it consistently just a few days ago…”

 

“It’s not good enough!” Yuuri huffed, standing up and wiping the sweat from his brow.  “I need to be better.”

 

Without another word, Yuuri skated off and tried again, launching into the air and twisting at an odd angle, coming down hard.

 

Viktor panicked, getting to him as quickly as possible, his heart hammering in his chest as Yuuri groaned, rolling onto his stomach and kicking down at the ice, creating a sharp dent.

 

“I’m fine,” Yuuri muttered, and Viktor grabbed him by the back of the shirt, hauling him up and guiding him off the ice.

 

“No more skating.  We already went an extra two hours today.  We’re done.”

 

Yuuri struggled for a few minutes, then ultimately gave in, letting Viktor lead him to the locker room.  He let Viktor take off his skates, let him check his bruised knee out, let him put on and lace up his street shoes.  It was intimate and real and Viktor could tell that his boyfriend was mentally checking out, not in the moment with him.

 

“Love, I need you to come back to me.”

 

Breathing in shakily, Yuuri brushed his fingers through Viktor’s hair as the older man finished lacing up his shoe.

 

“I need to be better.”

 

Sighing, Viktor started getting out of his own skates.  “It’s not going to happen all at once.  You need patience.”

 

“I need to prove that I deserve you,” Yuuri whispered, and Viktor looked over at him, eyes wide.

 

“Of course you deserve me, love…”

 

Cutting him off, Yuuri whispered “No, no, I meant as my coach.  I need to prove that you coming here was worth it.  That I’m worth it.”

 

The room was silent for a moment, as Viktor worked through what he wanted to say.  The air conditioner hummed loudly in the growing anticipation.

 

“I can’t make you think you’re worth it,” Viktor started slowly, “I’ve told you, and I’ve shown you.  I’ve done everything I can to make you believe that you deserve this chance.  You need to do your part, now.”

 

It hit him right in the gut.  Yuuri felt a wave of dawning wash over him, and then a wave of dread.  “I… I guess I can work on that.”

 

***

 

Later that evening, as Yuuri came out of his room in his lounge clothes, he tried to track Viktor down, but was unsuccessful.  He wasn’t in any of his usual haunts.

 

When he entered the kitchen, he came up to his mother.  “Hey, mom.”

 

“Baby, you just missed Viktor!  He whipped up a surprise for you.”

 

Surprised, Yuuri went to leave, when Hiroko caught his hand.  “No, no, give him a few more minutes.  How was practice?”

 

“I pushed myself too far.  Sometimes I just get so desperate to prove that I can be like Viktor…”

 

Tsk-ing, Hiroko said, “You don’t need to be like Viktor, darling, you need to be like Yuuri.  Viktor didn’t come all the way here to train another version of himself, he came to train you.”

 

His chest felt light all of a sudden, pumped full of helium and affection for his mother.  “How was your day?”

 

“Good!  The onsen has been busier since Viktor’s come.  He’s been so helpful.”

 

Yuuri smiled a little wider, then said, “I asked about you, mom, not the onsen.”

 

Hiroko’s face softened, and she looked up at her son thoughtfully.  “I’ve been reading a lot more, recently.  I’m trying to take better care of myself, like you are.  I’m following your good example.”

 

It wasn’t expected at all, and Yuuri had to go over the words in his mind twice before he really digested them.  

 

It had never occurred to him, in all his life, that taking care of himself would help others.  That maybe, because he was coping better, he was making his loved one’s strive to be better too.

 

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he encircled his mother in a hug.

 

“Yuuri!  I’m in the middle of cooking…”

 

“Oh, right, sorry!”

 

Suddenly, a very excited Viktor appeared in the kitchen, grin reaching from ear to ear.  

 

“I’m ready for you, love.”

 

Viktor took him by the hands and lead him down the hall towards one of their party rooms.

 

“What is it, Viktor?”

 

“Shh!  Close your eyes!”

 

Sighing, Yuuri did as he was told, affection and excitement bubbling under his skin.

 

When he stepped into the room, he immediately smelled something heavenly, and when Viktor closer the door, he whispered breathily, “Open them.”

 

Blinking, Yuuri gasped.  The room had a single table in the middle with an Italian pasta dish.  There were candles lined up along the floor, flickering eagerly in the dim room, and a bottle of wine opened and poured out into two crystalline glasses.

 

The tears that had welled up earlier threatened to come back as he breathed, “Viktor…”

 

“I know, it’s a little much…”

 

Yuuri grabbed Viktor’s hand and pulled his boyfriend towards him forcefully, pressing a hungry and grateful kiss to his lips.

 

Viktor stepped away, completely stunned, then gushed, “Oh, Yuuri, I knew you were a hopeless romantic!” tackling him in a hug.

 

Yelping, Yuuri fought to untangle himself from the octopus arms, laughing hysterically.

 

Soon they were seated at the table, and Viktor proudly pointed at the dish.

 

“Your mother showed me how to make it.  Gnocci and pesto with broccoli and,” Viktor pointed to a small basket, “garlic bread!”

 

Viktor waited expectantly as Yuuri surveyed the offerings.

 

Taking a tentative bite, Yuuri felt his whole body warm at the tastes dancing on his tongue.  “This is so good!”

 

“Really?!” Viktor gasped, face lighting up in excitement.  

 

They ate in relative and comfortable silence, and when they finished Yuuri took his glass of wine and sat right next to Viktor, cuddling into his side.

 

“I’m going to miss this,” Yuuri said honestly, and Viktor pressed a kiss into his hair.

 

“I’ll be back,   _solnishko,_ we’ll be together again before you know it.”

 

When they went back to Viktor’s room, he was busy getting the last of his things together.  Mari was driving him early the next morning to the airport, and Yuuri was watching him with wide eyes.

 

“You need all of those clothes?”

 

Viktor glanced at his suitcase.  “I don’t know what I’ll need!  The weather this time of year is fickle.”

 

“Aren’t you staying at your own apartment?”

 

Staring blankly at Yuuri, he asked, “What does that have to do with anything?”

 

Makkachin whined them, placing her paw on Viktor’s suitcase.  The silver-haired man gasped, petting his dog and dramatically falling to the ground.

 

“I’m so sorry, I’m the worst owner in the world!  I’ll be back soon, though, and you get to sleep with Yuuri while I’m gone.”

 

As if on command, Makkachin hopped onto the bed with Yuuri, who pet her soft fur, stress melting away almost immediately.

 

“Traitor,” Viktor huffed, climbing onto the bed then and settling behind Yuuri, pressing soft kisses into his hair.

 

“You have to get a good night’s sleep,” Yuuri complained sleepily, as Viktor nodded against his skin and continued to trail kisses along his spine.

 

Shivering at the contact through his shirt, Yuuri closed his eyes, surrounded by love on both sides.

 

The next morning, when he woke up, Viktor was busy getting ready, the bed behind him was cold.

 

As Viktor was about to climb into the car, Yuuri handed him a small bag.  Surprised, Viktor took it and opened it, pulling a long red scarf out of it.

 

“I made it,” Yuuri said suddenly; nervously, “It was one of my firsts so it’s a little uneven but I wanted to give you something.”

 

The red scarf was quickly twirled around Viktor’s neck, and Yuuri went bright red.

 

“Viktor it’s like ninety degrees…”

 

“I’m not taking it off,” Viktor argued, an irresistible smile on his lips.  “It smells like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is canon that Viktor sweats like a sinner in church the whole way to the airport with a smile on his face, and Mari calls him all manner of names that are synonymous with "idiot"
> 
> If you like this, check out my other YOI fics! There are a few of them now. Apparently fanfiction writing is a good time! Who knew?


	19. Silver Windowsill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor spends a week in Russia working with Yurio on Agape, which makes Viktor spend time thinking about his own Agape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> So windowsill, when written out, is one of those words that looks fake and then you have to google it six times before it looks real.
> 
> I used this as a reward for studying well yesterday, so no GRE yelling! I earned this:)
> 
> Some recap notes before we begin: remember that Elena is Viktor's FWB from years past. Viktor lived with his aunt from twelve onward, as his mother was unable to care for him, though we don't know about what happened after that. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of anxiety, depression, and unhealthy coping. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Go to the bookstore and pick out a book on poetry. Read it together, and discuss each poem as you read them.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

_Viktor_

 

Viktor stared at the blank page in front of him, wondering where to begin.  He had gotten to his apartment in the early evening, and was supposed to meet Yurio for their training at seven.

 

However, he had made a promise to his therapist before he left, that he would journal all his feelings over the next week to work through them instead of bottling them up.

 

After he’d unpacked and set the apartment up a little, he was on the couch with the beautiful leather journal, Yuuri’s scarf still tucked securely around his neck.

 

_Dear Diary,_

 

_This is immensely stupid, but I’m going to do it anyway._

 

_According to my therapist, I have a habit of “shutting down” instead of feeling emotions as they come, and that that is “unhealthy” and leads to “impulsive acts” like trying to hold my breath in an onsen tub, or flying halfway around the world to coach someone I’d talked to only a few select times._

 

_They still can’t prove that going under the water was anything but innocent.  Obviously Yuuri overreacted._

 

_Here I am, in St. Petersburg again, in my old apartment.  It’s still the same furniture.  It makes me feel… like I miss Yuuri._

 

_I’m going to be coaching Yurio today on his progress with “agape”.  I feel excited to see everyone again.  I feel confident about my ability to help Yurio perform better._

 

_I feel like… I feel like I already hate this._

 

_Signed,_

_Viktor Nikiforov_

 

Viktor thought momentarily about his entry, and about how robotic and wrong it sounded, and tossed the book onto his coffee table, staring up at the ceiling.

 

Repressing feelings, huh?

  


***

  


When Viktor got to the rink, he heard a squeal from behind him.

 

A flame of red hair tackled him.  “Oh, Vitya, have you gotten shorter?”

 

“Hello, Mila.  Have you gotten prettier?”

 

The young woman chuckled, patting Viktor hard on the back.  “You’re too sweet, Vitya.  How is your Japanese pet?”

 

The term set Viktor immediately on edge.  “What did you…”

 

“Vitya!”

 

The yell was heard clear across the rink, and he sighed, wandering over to the person in question.

 

Yakov glared at Viktor through his bushy eyebrows, mouth set in a line.

 

“Viktor,” he said now, catching himself far too late, “I hear that your pupil has been keeping you very busy.  How did you find the time to come here?”

 

The statement set him even more on edge.  The term “pupil” put so much figurative distance between him and Yuuri, and they were already so far apart…

 

Faking a smile, Viktor touched Yakov’s arm lightly.  “Oh, Yakov, Yuuri is training just fine without me.  Now, where’s Yurio?  I want to see his run-through live!”

 

“He should be here shortly.”

 

They stood in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes until the teen wandered in, hands shoved into a leopard print jacket and bulky headphones loud enough for them to everyone else to hear.

 

When he saw Viktor, his jaw dropped, and he took his headphones off.

 

“You actually remembered?”

 

Blinking, Viktor’s eyes widened, appalled.  “You thought I would forget?”

 

“Well, yeah.  That is what you do, old man.  Now I owe Mila money…”

 

Still in shock, Viktor clapped his hands, evil smile donning his face.  “Alright, little kitten, I want you on the ice in five minutes running figures or you’ll be doing speed laps.”

 

Yurio gulped, yelling, “You can’t tell me what to do!”  


With the look of absolute anger on Viktor’s face, Yurio grumbled and moved quickly towards the locker room.

 

“He’s different,” Viktor observed.

 

“You left,” Yakov replied.

  


***

  


After Viktor had been working with Yurio for three hours, he was immensely impressed.

 

“Your work ethic seems to have improved,” Viktor cheered loudly, “You’re less of a brat!”

 

“Shut UP!” Yurio sneered.  It was just the two of them in the rink now, as Mila and Yakov had left pretty shortly after Viktor had arrived.  

 

Viktor had tried, and failed, to get Yakov to have an extended conversation with him past pleasantries and speaking about Yurio’s progress.

 

“I feel like you still aren’t quite getting agape.  Your grandfather is your inspiration, yes?”

 

Yurio skated over, nodded as he leaned against the barrier and took a sip of his drink.  “Da.”

 

“So why him?”

 

The teen pushed back his long blonde hair, revealing two green eyes that were misty with thought.  

 

“He’s been my biggest supporter.  When I have no one else, I have him.”

 

The heaviness of the implication weighed on Viktor.  Did Yurio… no, that would be crazy…

 

“You don’t think I abandoned you, do you, Yurio?”

 

It was so unlike him that he clamped his mouth shut as soon as he said it.  

 

Yurio blinked up at him with raw shock.  “Where did that come from?”  


Shaking his head to clear it, Viktor decided that he should just follow through.

 

“Answer the question.”

 

Yurio wrinkled his nose, pushing off the barrier.

 

“I’m running it again!”

 

When the skater finished and he came over to Viktor again, the older man was pensive.  

 

“I think you need more than one agape inspiration.  Just like you can’t rely completely on one person for support, you can’t rely on one person for inspiration.”

 

“That actually made sense,” Yurio peered up at Viktor, like he wasn’t quite believing what he was seeing.

 

Viktor smiled.  “I want to be there for you, Yurio.  I want to help you figure your agape out.”

 

“That sounded… _sincere_ ,” Yurio gaped, yelling out suddenly, “Who the hell are you and what did you do with Viktor?”

 

He tore towards the locker room.  

 

“Practice is over, then!” Viktor said cheerily, then his hand fell, and dread spread over him in a wave.

 

What was happening to him?

  


***

  


As Viktor sat in his apartment the next morning, staring at another blank page, he began:

 

_Dear Diary,_

 

_Writing in journals makes me feel like I’m five._

 

_Talking about my feelings makes me feel like an invalid._

 

_This is stupid._

 

_Signed,_

_Viktor Nikiforov_

 

When he arrived at practice, Yurio was already warming up.  The older man laced up his skates and joined Yurio on the ice.

 

“What’s the plan today, Viktor?”

 

The teen might be a little jerk, but there was clearly some excitement from his presence.  Yurio might hide it well, but he clearly admired Viktor and wanted to learn from him.

 

“I’m going to skate agape.”

 

Yurio blanked, asking, “Why?  You’ve shown me the moves…”

 

“Yes, I have,” Viktor said softly, “but I showed you the motions, not the emotions.  You have to access them somehow.”

 

_I may not be able to write, them, but…_

 

Viktor began without music, the melody singing inside his head instead, as clear as if it were real.

 

As Viktor began, his brain started up his own internal commentary, like he always does when he skates.

 

_How do I feel?_

 

_I miss Yuuri._

 

_I love him, so much.  I love it when he smiles.  I love it when we’re touching.  I love watching him grow professionally and personally, and am so excited to see who he’ll become._

 

_There’s only so much agape, in Yuuri, though.  Eventually it shifts to eros.  This performance has to be pure..._

 

_Yuuri isn’t my only agape…_

 

_How did I used to feel while skating this?  Who was on my mind?_

 

_Or maybe I know who, and I’m just afraid…_

 

Viktor paused momentarily, making Yurio’s eyebrows shoot up, and then continued, not letting his hiccup show in any of the rest of his performance.

 

“That was…” Yurio started, and Viktor just shrugged.

 

Stylistically, it was perfect.  However, it was devoid of any emotion by the end.

 

Frustrated, Viktor quickly set Yuri to start the program, taking it apart bit by bit, detail by detail.

 

By the end of it, Yurio was roiling with anger, and Viktor had made a decision.

  


***

  


Wednesday, after practice, Viktor stood outside of a large house.

 

It was about two hours away.  The entire car ride had been Viktor telling himself not to turn around.

 

Now, standing at the door, he chickened out and started to walk away, before he saw movement through the window.

 

A woman with white blonde hair was serving dinner to her six-year-old son and her husband, fresh off of work in a suit and tie.  She was smiling and wearing an apron, the picture perfect housewife.

 

The little boy pointed his fork at her and she laughed.  The husband joined in, and soon the picturesque family continued their meal.

 

Viktor’s mother took off her apron and joined them at the table.

 

In all the years that Viktor and his mother had been estranged, he always knew about her life through stories others told him.  About how she married a kind man.  About how she had another son.

 

Not once had Ana ever reached out to him.  

 

There was an empty seat at the table, and Viktor felt a visceral nausea from imagining himself sitting there, around the table like a big, old fashioned family.

 

He studied his little brother, whose name was Samuel.  The boy had a dark crop of hair and bright blue eyes.  He was small, but already lanky, clearly going to be very tall one day.

 

Maybe one day, Viktor would be sitting at the table with them…

 

...but today was not that day.

 

Tightening his present around his neck, he left.

 

Just after he walked away, Reyna turned to the window, and saw only the tip of a bright red scarf as it retreated from sight.

  


***

  


The next day Viktor was pushing Yurio to his limits.  

 

“There was a sloppy leg on that spin!  Do it again.”

 

“Your entry looked like you were a flailing fish.  Again.”

 

“Agape is pure unadulterated love, not love of grimaces!”

 

“I’ll make you grimace…” Yurio hissed, but Yakov threw him a look across the ice.

 

Of course, Yurio may have been grimacing _because_ of Viktor.  The level of intensity of coaching wasn't new, Yurio was used to that; it was the fact that it was coming from Viktor, someone he aimed to emulate, that made it sting so harshly.

 

When Yurio departed the ice, he marched up to Yakov and pointed a finger right in his face.

 

“You deal with him.  I'm out.”

 

Grunting, Yakov looked over at Viktor thoughtfully, surveying his former student, who was skating loops around the ice, extremely fast.

 

“Vitya!  A word!”

 

Viktor skated over, smiling hugely.  “Oh Yakov, you remembered my name!”

 

“Save it,” he snapped, “what was that with Yurio?”

 

Viktor shrugged.  “I learned how to coach from you, didn't I?”

 

That was like a fresh slap, and Yakov’s eyes flashed with anger.  

 

“Apparently I taught you nothing about patience.”

 

Viktor just patted Yakov reassuringly on the shoulder.  “Couldn't have.  There wasn't even an ounce to spare!”

 

The older man peered at Viktor from under his hat, carefully.  

 

“What do you think about us getting a drink?”

 

For a moment, the fake happy peeled back, and Yakov saw the scared little fourteen-year-old who sobbed into his chest, asking why he felt like the world had swallowed him.

 

Then, Viktor responded, “Only if you’re paying.”

  


***

  


They sat at the bar, both of them halfway through their drinks without a single word uttered between them.

 

Finally, Yakov broke the silence.

 

“Is this… coaching endeavor… making you happy?”

 

It wasn’t sarcastic or frustrated.  His tone was simply questioning, honestly curious.

 

Viktor swirled his drink, finishing it in one go and waving the bartender for another.  

 

“I thought it would fix me.”

 

The words made Viktor stare down at his empty glass, at the condensation dripping down the sides, at the water disappearing now that the chilly liquid inside the glass was gone.

 

Yakov grunted then, finishing his own drink.  “You never needed to be fixed, Vitya.  You are fine as you are.”

 

The words filled him with something akin to warmth, and comfort.

 

Viktor looked over at the man who had been his strongest backbone, his biggest supporter.

 

_When I have nobody else, I have him._

 

Placing a hand on Yakov’s, his halfhearted smile conveyed his mixed emotions.  With Yakov, his mask didn’t have to stay on.  

 

“I’ll buy the next round.”

  


***

  


The next evening, as he was showering after practice, someone _walked into his bathroom._

 

“Vitya!  How dare you come home and not tell me.  I demand answers!”

 

Viktor’s stomach dropped to his knees and then bounced back up again, elated.

 

He pulled back the curtain, smiling widely at the intruder.

 

“Elena!”

 

Sighing, she handed over a towel.  “If you want me to keep my hands to myself, please cover up.  You know what those abs do to me.”

 

Oh, he did.  Images flashed in his mind, of long nights tossed in the sheets, of implicit trust, of feeling her soak his fingers with…

 

“How did you know?” he asked with a smile, wandering into his room to get dressed.

 

She followed dutifully, green eyes curious and analytical, trying to piece and tease Viktor apart with nothing but her stare.

 

“I have my sources.”

 

_Yakov._

 

“When you tweet a video of you at practice with Yurio it tends to drop the hint.”

 

Viktor went stock still, not realizing how idiotic he was, before stepping into his underwear and a pair of sweats.

 

“What do I owe the pleasure?”

 

“I missed you,” she purred, wandering over to the bed, skimming her fingers along the duvet.  It was then that Viktor saw how low her shirt was, how she was angling her body.  “I haven’t had a lover in too long.  I’m needy, my Vitya.  Would you tell me I’m a good girl?”

 

The thoughts rushing through his head, the images flashing, made his body react without any conscious thought, and he said suddenly, darkly, “Elena!”

 

Backing a step up, her eyes went wide with innocence.  “Vitya?  Are you alright?”

 

“I… I have a boyfriend, Elena.”

 

It was a slow yet dramatic metamorphosis.  Elena’s face started at angry, then transitioned to thoughtful, then moved on to something like sadness, then hinged on giddy, before settling on a warm smile and patting the bed happily, sitting down herself and saying, “Tell me about him, then.”

 

Her moods should be studied by psychologists.  

 

Viktor sat down a foot away, angling towards her.  Except, he could tell that she got the hint, because she was sitting up straight, legs crossed, eager to listen.

 

“He’s… the skater I went to coach.”

 

Elena’s cheeks turned pink as she gasped, clasping her hand over her mouth.  “No way, the hot Japanese man?!”

 

“That one.”

 

“Hmmm, he is yummy,” she said happily, hesitantly reaching out and touching Viktor’s hand.  In a show of trust, he let her.  “I’m so excited for you, Vitya.  You know I just want happiness for the both of us.”

 

His relationship with Elena was… tangled, and complicated, but there was a deep love that went farther than friends, that could never quite push to commitment.  It was a delicate balance, but it was a relationship that Viktor treasured.  They were each other’s solace when they needed a human’s touch, they were each other’s strength when they didn’t have any of their own.

 

Elena had bathed Viktor when his depression had him so low that he could barely move without prompting.  She had forced him to eat when his whole being insisted that food was nauseating.  When she went through tough breakups, he was there with a bottle of wine and a couple of fun sex toys to take her mind off of things.

 

“Are you disappointed?” he couldn’t help but asking, and she just shook her head, tightening her hold on his hand.

 

“I meant it, Viktor.  I just want your happiness.  I’ve got plenty of vibrators that will keep me going until I find a new boy toy.”

 

“Wow, I’m so replaceable!” Viktor scoffed, pulling his hand away in mock-offense.

 

“Yes, you are, darling.  At least like that,” she stood up, and pulled him up too, encircling him in a tight hug that calmed him down all the way to his toes.  “Like this, though, as one of my best friends, you are one in a million.”

 

They cracked open a bottle of wine after that, and spent the rest of the night catching up.  Elena told the story of how her and her beau broke up a few months ago, and Viktor wouldn’t shut up about Yuuri.

 

“So I find that I actually prefer him topping, but that isn’t the only thing that’s great about him.  It’s… him.  We fit right.  We say the right things.  We make each other stronger.”

 

Elena was pensive for a moment, green eyes darting away from his as she poured another glass.

 

“What?”

 

She held up a glass.  “To the fact that I’m never sleeping with you again.”

 

It was a running joke, between the two of them.  When one of them would get into a serious relationship or monogamous fling, they would toast to never sleeping together again, because sleeping together implied that they were both single, or available, at the time.

 

Viktor clinked his glass, pulling out his phone now.

 

“So, this is Yuuri eating dinner, and this is Yuuri taking a nap…”

  


***

  


Yurio was sitting on the side of the rink on Friday, watching Viktor warm up, eyes alight with interest.

 

“Something is different about him today,” Yurio muttered to Yakov, who shrugged with indifference.  

 

After setting up, Viktor took a deep breath and began.

 

Yurio saw it the instant he started; something essential had changed in Viktor, and his agape was so perfect, so pure and unbelievable, that he couldn’t help but stare, trying to imprint the image on his mind, so he could practice it to the degree that his own performance was indistinguishable.

 

As Viktor finished, he grinned at the two of them, opening his eyes wide with enthusiasm.  “Yeah, something like that!”

 

Yurio’s first run through had so much emotion that Viktor almost started crying.  The facial expression of a tortured desperation paired with the purity of his movements, the lack of hesitation, perfectly embodied the concept of agape.

 

As Viktor watched Yurio go through the motions, he heard, “He misses you, you know.”

 

VIktor turned around and saw Mila, staring at Yurio with an unreadable expression.  “He always considered you like a big brother.  When you left, it devastated him.”

 

Watching Yurio launch into a quad, Viktor wondered what had made Yurio’s agape come back.

 

Whatever it was, Viktor was grateful.

  


***

  


As he sat at the airport waiting for his flight on Saturday morning, he pulled out the barely touched book and set his pen to page, curling up in his travel blanket and smelling his red scarf with a smile.

 

_Dear Diary,_

 

_I feel like I realized that Yuuri makes me stronger._

 

_Coming here helped me realize a lot of things about myself.  Yurio was struggling with his agape, and so was I.  Though I had my agape in Yuuri, and Yuuri’s family, they were only so much of my support.  Though I love them dearly, they’ve only known me a few months._

 

_Since coming here, I realized that my agape was everyone I’d left behind, too.  They’re just as much a part of me as my new family.  I thought leaving them behind might help me move past that part of my life but… they’re still people who love me.  They’re still in my heart, and still a part of me._

 

_My bad parts are just as important as my good parts, which they’ve seen them all.  They all compose me._

 

_Yakov taught me that I didn’t need to be fixed.  That makes me feel… calmer, somehow.  More steady._

 

_My… mother… made me realize that family doesn’t mean blood.  I saw two strangers , who were biologically related to me, but wanted nothing to do with me.  That makes me feel both happy and a little sad, with grief for what could have been_

 

_Elena made me remember that I have someone who has seen every part of me and will still always cheer for my happy ending.  I have someone who loves me unconditionally.  That makes me feel… secure, and whole._

 

_Even Yurio taught me something.  Sometimes love isn’t hugs or kisses or confessions.  Sometimes it’s recognizing another person for exactly what they are, and accepting them at face value, cat claws and all.  That makes me feel… like those dark parts of me could be loved, too._

 

_There’s so much more I have to learn about agape.  I think that I get every day of the rest of my life to find out._

 

_Forever yours,_

_Viktor Nikiforov_

 

_PS Yuuri: when you inevitably read this (because my writing is arguably perfect and I can’t wait to show you how well I did), I love you so much.  Even though you perform Eros for me, you are part of my Agape, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wrote Viktor confronting his mother, but I realized that it wasn't in his character to do so, and switched to the window scene, which I think is symbolic for the longing Viktor has for his own childhood to be as "perfect" as his brother's.
> 
> Next up: We see how Yuuri was during this week! 
> 
> If you like this fic, check out my other YOI fics! There are a few now. I've gotten a lot of good feedback regarding "The Thin Line Between Us" and "Tabula Rasa"


	20. Silver Droplets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri spends the time away from Viktor considering some serious questions and spending some much needed time with the other people in his life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all you people!
> 
> I took the GREs! It didn't suck! I actually did pretty well according to the raw score I got right after the test. 
> 
> This chapter is Yuuri's side of the story. I think I forgot to mention it in the other chapter, but Yuuri and Viktor made a promise not to communicate at all during this week to give themselves some space to do introspection and healing.
> 
> You are all lovely and I'm so happy that you're enjoying the story<3 I'm on the fence about something and wanted your input if you could drop me a comment: would you prefer I stretch out the time before competitions and really hone into Viktor and Yuuri's budding relationship, or would you prefer that after a time I skip to competition season to see how that changes the dynamic of their relationship? I've planned for both, but am currently torn. You can just say "extended" or "skip" to make it easy
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: references to anxiety and depression, as well as self harm. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Go to Michael's or Hobby Lobby and buy finger paint. Let the antics ensue. It won't take away the hurt, but hopefully it will help
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

_Yuuri_

 

The second that Yuuri fell back asleep after seeing Viktor off, something felt innately wrong inside of him.  It was like Viktor leaving had triggered some visceral bodily reaction.

 

 _Or_ , he thought as he ran to the bathroom and hurled into the toilet, sweat breaking out over his brow, _maybe I’m sick._

 

His mother came into his room with the thermometer, clucking her tongue at the number.  “You definitely have a fever, Yuuri.  Want me to bring back some soup?”

 

Nodding, Yuuri felt a round of chills seize his muscles and make him shake uncontrollably.  It felt like his body was trying to vibrate apart, and the whole world felt like it was suffocating him.

 

As soon as his mother left, he fell into a fever dream.  He dreamt that Viktor was watching him from behind a pane of glass, and that while Yuuri was screaming and crying, Viktor’s vibrant blue eyes were simply staring at Yuuri carefully, like he was trying to decide whether or not to respond.

 

When Yuuri woke up, his mother was hovering over him with a cool washcloth, dabbing at his forehead.

 

“Baby, it was just a dream.”

 

Sighing, Yuuri sat up, and saw the steaming mug of soup on his desk.  His mother handed it to him carefully, and he took a sip, the liquid hitting his stomach heavily.

 

Fighting down his urge to gag, he continued to sip slowly, the liquid just barely warming up his bone-deep chill.

 

Hiroko told him that if he needed anything, just to let her or Toshiya know, and Yuuri nodded, falling back against the bed.

 

This time, the dream was of him and Viktor in a meadow, alone.  The flowers were all purple.  They weren’t wearing any clothes.

 

Viktor touched Yuuri’s face delicately, his eyes tender and mouth split into a grin.  “What is it, my Yuuri?”

 

“You’re just so beautiful,” Yuuri responded, and Viktor chuckled, hugging Yuuri to him.

 

They continued to sit in the meadow, until Yuuri realized that there seemed to be no one and nothing else in this world: just the long grass and the purple flowers shivering in the breeze.

 

“Viktor, where is everyone?”

 

Viktor shushed him, pressing a firm kiss to Yuuri’s lips, and Yuuri woke up again.

 

This time it was hours later, and Yuuri shook his head, checking his phone, stomach swirling with discomfort.

 

Then, he ran to the bathroom again.

 

When he got back to his bed, he tossed and turned for a little while, unable to fall back asleep, but too exhausted to be awake.

 

So, he scrolled through social media, and got an idea to text Phichit.

 

_Y: Hey_

 

_P: Hey!  Long time no hear.  How have things been?_

 

_Y: Shitty.  Viktor is in Russia for the week and I’m sick._

 

_P: I can video chat with you tomorrow during your rink time.  Ciao Ciao is taking a personal day so I don’t have practice_

 

_Y: That would be great.  How’s the routine coming along?_

 

_P: Slowly.  I just want to get everything perfect, you know?_

 

_Y: Understood.  That’s how I feel about Yuri on Ice_

 

_P: I still love that you named a routine after yourself.  It’s almost JJ-level obnoxious_

 

_Y: Ouch_

 

Yuuri started laughing, sore all over, and passed back out.

 

This time, his dream was even weirder.

 

Yuuri was standing on the ice without skates on, in his street clothes, and a bunch of dark figures were whispering in the stands.

 

The music for his free skate started, and he scrambled to attempt his routine without the skates, but quickly starting slipping and falling and looking like a bumbling fool.

 

No one stopped him.  Instead, they continued to whisper.

 

Viktor came out from the crowd suddenly, and when Yuuri reached out to him, Viktor just shook his head, looking mournful.  

 

Viktor disappeared back into the crowd, and Yuuri attempted the routine again, this time with even less success.

 

He woke up with a start, heart beating very fast, breathing come in short gasps.

 

It happened, sometimes, with a particularly bad nightmare, that Yuuri would get panic attacks in the middle of the night.  It hadn’t happened in months, but here Yuuri was, gasping and choking, trying to steady his breathing but feeling like he was under so much water.  He must be dying from this fever, he must be drowning from the inside out…

 

Yuuri quickly began using his breathing techniques, and was able to calm down, but that didn’t stop him from feeling panicked.

 

When he checked his phone, he saw that it was 5 AM the _next day_

 

Yuuri had been sleeping on and off for twenty-four hours, a least.

 

Getting up, he wobbled out of his room and towards the kitchen, his stomach swirling on empty.  When he got to the fridge, he opened it, then sighed as everything looked disgusting.

 

Instead, he went into the pantry and found the saltines, nibbling on them slowly.

 

He went back to his room and set up his laptop with Netflix, snacking on the crackers and waiting out the fever.

 

At some point during the show, he fell asleep again.

 

The dream, this time, was that he was helping out in the onsen.  He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and gasped, because was old.

 

Like, eighty years old.

 

There were things he understood about himself that stuck out in his brain like swollen balloons blocking all other thought: he retired from figure skating when he was twenty-six.  Viktor went back to Russia to train Yurio, and Yuuri had remained at the onsen, cleaning and helping out.  Later, when his parents died, him and his sister inherited the onsen and maintained it.

 

Mari was doing some paperwork in the office, and Yuuri was sweeping up the main entrance, whispering, “This is where I die.”

 

When Yuuri woke for the final time, at 10 AM that morning, he knew that his fever had broken.  He felt drained, and altogether empty, but overall stronger.

 

He forgot all of his dreams and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

 

***

 

Later that day at practice, Yuuri was careful to mark his jumps, taking his routine piece by piece and giving himself breaks as needed.

 

“ _Could you point me at Yuuri again, Loop?”_

 

The triplets were all sitting on the edge of the rink, passing Phichit around between the three of them like a game of “my arms are tired” hot potato.

 

“I feel like that step sequence seemed sluggish,” Lutz pointed out, “There was no pizzazz.”

 

Sighing, Yuuri took a deep breath before answering.  “It’s not supposed to have pizzazz.  It’s supposed to have soul.”

 

“Yeah, that!”

 

Axel piped up.  “So when are you doing our lesson, Yuuri?  The winners have started asking when they get to learn from you and Viktor.”

 

Freezing up, Yuuri bonked himself on the head, having completely forgot the commitment that he’d made.

 

“The one that won their lesson with you is really excited!”

 

Yuuri thought for a moment, then said, “When Viktor gets back we’ll figure out a day to do the lesson.  For right now, try to give me feedback?”

 

“Yes sir!” they all piped up in unison, even Phichit following suit.

 

Yuuri tried his step sequence again, and Phichit was looking extremely thoughtful.

 

_“When you’re doing that sequence, what are you thinking about?”_

 

Pondering, Yuuri thought back to what was going through his mind.  That step sequence from his free skate was just before the part that represents Viktor coming into his life.  It was supposed to look desperate and hopeful, waiting for something to change.

 

“I’m usually thinking about the emotions I need to convey for when Viktor comes in.”

 

_“It looks like that part is just filler.  You don’t seem to be showing enough of what was going on.  You look mechanical, even though usually your skating is expressive.”_

 

“Yeah, you look constipated,” Lutz chuckled out, and Loop and Axel joined in on her laugh.

 

Yuuri sighed, thinking about the story he was trying to tell.

 

It was a story about a man who thought that he’d given up, who thought that it was over for him…

 

Or is it?  

 

Yuuri moved to run it again, this time remembering...

 

_I wouldn’t have been skating Viktor’s program for Yuuko that day if I’d really given up._

 

_Maybe I wanted to come back.  Maybe I was willing to put in the effort already, and Viktor coming was just my catalyst._

 

_Maybe it wasn’t hope; maybe I'm supposed to be conveying desperation and patience._

 

At the end of the step sequence, Phichit yelled from the phone, “ _Do it again!  The girls pointed me at the ceiling.”_

 

***

 

When Yuuri finished practice the next day, his two guest coaches, Yuuko and Minako, took him by either arm and guided him to Minako’s car.

 

“Hey, I have to run home…”

 

“Nope, coaches orders!” Minako insisted, and soon he was in the back seat, driving with the two of them towards the Nishigori residence.

 

When they arrived at the small house, gardens full to bursting with flowers, Lutz, Loop, and Axel were sitting on their front porch, each on their respective phones, and barely blinked when the three of them got out of the car.

 

Yuuko huffed when she saw them, tapping her foot impatiently.  “Did daddy let you spend the whole day on your phones?”

 

“No,” they all said together without looking up.

 

“Are you lying?”

 

The three of them glanced between themselves, nodding as they came to a unanimous decision.  “Yes.”

 

Yuurko sighed and marched inside, and Minako winked at the triplets.  “More afraid of mom than dad, huh?”

 

They all nodded, and went back to their phones.

 

Yuuri and Minako followed Yuuko in, where Takeshi was standing sheepishly in the living room with Yuuko glaring up at him.

 

“Do you want them to become antisocial?”

 

“To be fair, they use the phones to talk to other skating otakus.  Technically, it is them being social.”

 

Sighing, defeated, Yuuko turned around, smiling at her guests.

 

“Takeshi made some grilled unagi for dinner.  Help me set up?’

 

They threw on some music and started setting the table, settling around it with their meals of grilled unagi and rice, with a side of steamed broccoli.

 

“So, Yuuri, how is it without Viktor glued to your hip?” Minako asked, eyes flashing in amusement.

 

“Quiet,” Yuuri said honestly, “It’s been a little relaxing in some ways.  I can sleep a little better…” Yuuri’s cheeks flared as he realized what he’d just said.

 

Minako squealed suddenly, and Yuuko looked over to the front door to make sure the girls were outside.

 

“So you are sleeping together!”  Minako accused,clearly elated at the news.

 

Takeshi got up and patted him on the back, proudly.  “Finally swiping your V-card.  Props.”

 

“Wait, did you all think I was a virgin?!”

 

They all stared blankly at him, before Yuuri’s mortified face fell into his hands.

 

They jumped on him after that, demanding his sexual history.

 

“...Viktor and I… it’s nice.  You get no details, though,” he snapped, peering at Minako over his glasses.

 

She raised her hands in defeat, and they continued their dinner.

 

“So, Yuuri, you know that little shit from my beginner class?’

 

Yuuri nodded, mouth full of fish.

 

“He won your lesson.  His mom reached out about setting up a date.”

 

Swallowing his food, he took a quick sip of water before responding, “The triplets told me that they wanted to schedule it.  I told them I needed to wait until after Viktor came back.  We promised that we wouldn’t talk to each other on the phone this week.  We wanted time and space to ourselves.”

 

Takeshi raised his eyebrow.  “Why?”

 

“We’re both trying to figure a lot of stuff out.  It’s hard to help ourselves if we’re constantly helping each other.  Even though I miss him, I’ve been able to really focus on self control and self care this week.”

 

Yuuko was watching him with wide eyes.  “You sound so… well adjusted…”

 

The implication made Yuuri a little sour.  “I’m working on getting there.”

 

“I’m proud of you.  I’ve known you for years, through all your anxiety in middle school and high school.  You seem stronger, now.”

 

“I am.”

 

They finished their dinner with laughter and small talk, then moved into the living room and popped in a kids movie.  They sat around until the triplets passed out in a heap, then Minako offered to drive Yuuri home.

 

While driving, Minako glanced over at Yuuri, her dark eyes considering him carefully.

 

“How have you been feeling?”

 

Yuuri used to answer that question with, “Fine,” but the word stuck in his throat, and he thought a little harder, saying calmly, “Things are still rough, but I feel sturdier.”

 

“That’s good.  You’re going to need that feeling to get through this skating season.”

 

***

 

As Yuuri sat in the baths, alone, he was thoughtful for a while.

 

Then, he pulled himself out of the water, under the sparkling lanterns, and traced the silver lines on his hips.  Some of them he could remember why he did it, some of them he couldn’t.  They were each unique, some darker than others, but all decorating his skin, permanent and real.

 

Sometimes he forgot that he felt so much, pain, but his scars reminded him.  His scars told his story.  

 

In the steam of the baths, Yuuri wondered what it meant to be weak.

 

Was cutting weakness?  Or was it grit?

 

Was crying weakness?  Or was it catharsis?

 

Where is the line?  What does it mean to be strong?

 

Is there even an objective answer to any of these questions?

 

Sighing, Yuuri got up and stretched, then headed out of the baths, the water sparkling off his tanned skin, the silver droplets commingling with the silver lines, so much so that it was hard to tell if Yuuri even had scars.

 

***

 

As Yuuri pet Makkachin absently, he continued his online search.

 

He wanted to surprise Viktor with something when he came back.  Though he wanted to try a lot, he wanted to take it slow and ease into the more… select fantasies he had.  Yuuri needed something that was a starter step.

 

Whips, ball gags, cock rings…

 

Yuuri carefully put all of those in the cart, but was still looking for that first experience.

 

What did Yuuri want from Viktor?

 

Closing his eyes, he imagined Viktor writhing under him.  What would turn himself on?  What would make their sex life better?  What could be a fun and memorable experience for the two of them?

 

Handcuffs had their appeal, so he threw those in the cart as well.

 

 _Oh_!  Yuuri found an item and blushed all the way down his chest, completely lost even thinking about it.  It may not exactly be "starter step" material, but it was definitely the level of sexy he was looking for.

 

He shielded Makkachin’s eyes, for Viktor’s sake, and added it to the cart, purchasing his order.

 

Blushing furiously but satisfied, he whispered, “You’re going to be in for a real treat, Viktor.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last bit was a nod to next week. I've already written it, and it's going to be WILD. I'm so excited.
> 
> Don't forget to drop me a comment and let me know where you want the story to go!
> 
> If you like this, check out my other YOI fics!


	21. Silver Chain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri welcomes Viktor home with a kinky surprise. Then, it's Viktor's turn to surprise him right back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> So fun fact, I have a twitter and tumblr for this account now? They're still babies and I have to put some work into them, but once they are finished you should be able to refer to them for updates/sneak previews of upcoming chapters. Or, you can use it to DM me or tag me in cute YOI things. I'm friendly, I promise I won't bite!  
> twitter: painted_lady12  
> tumblr: painted-lady12
> 
> So the smut of this chapter might not be everyone's cup of tea. Just giving that warning now. If at any point you don't want to read that section anymore, you can skip to the next "***" section. Otherwise, enjoy my kinky mind.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of anxiety and self harm. If at any point this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Then, go to the nearest pet store. Name all the fish and watch them explore. Maybe purchase on and call him Yurio. It won't make the hurt go away, but maybe it will help
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

Yuuri sighed as he stared at the calendar.

 

Viktor was coming home today.  They’d be picking him up later in the evening at the airport.

 

However, the date was glaring up at him, mocking him.

 

June 15th was only a few days away.  Phichit had mentioned it on the phone with him a few days ago, but Yuuri had dismissed Phichit’s request to come visit him for the occasion.

 

Instead, Yuuri sorted through the mail he’d received that morning that contained a plethora of toys.  There were quite a few exciting items in there, and he took care to sort through, remove from packages, and individually wash each of them.  He had a drawer where he kept lube and condoms for when Viktor and him had sex, and he quickly put the one item he wanted for that evening in there, but took care to put the rest back in the box and hide them behind some things under his bed.

 

Keeping a little excitement in their sex life would do wonders for his eros, right?

  


***

  


As Yuuri waited for Viktor at the airport, he thought of all the things he hadn’t said in this last week.

 

Not speaking was hard, but Yuuri learned a lot about himself this week.  He feels stronger for it, stronger to know that he made it through the whole week with just his coping skills and the other people in his life to support him.  

 

There were so many people who loved him.  It was unreal, how much he had been overlooking these past few years.

 

When he caught sight of Viktor, his heart skipped a beat.  The Russian looked impeccable, despite having spent a large majority of the day on a plane.  Even with his light, summery pants and t-shirt, he was still wearing that scarf.

 

Viktor’s face fell as he scanned the airport and didn’t see Yuuri.

 

When Yuuri stood up and waved, and Viktor caught sight of him, it was instantaneous: a broad grin stretched across his face, his eyes lit up, the blue in them sparking like a jolt of electricity.

 

Viktor started moving quickly towards Yuuri, passing through the crowd, trying his best not to run into anyone, but once he was past the crowd he let his bags drop and ran for Yuuri.

 

The Japanese man waited for him, open arms, as Viktor basically rammed into him full force.  They laughed as Yuuri almost fell backwards, but Viktor just pressed a kiss into his hair.

 

“I missed you.  I have so much to tell you.”

 

Yuuri was clutching Viktor with everything he had.  It was unreal, how much the heaviness and warmth of the man he loved felt when Viktor was in his arms.  Yuuri didn’t want to let go; he worried that if he let go, Viktor would disappear again.

 

“I missed you, too.  Let’s get your stuff, though,” Yuuri mourned the loss as Viktor disentangled himself from the embrace and grabbed his bags.  There was a mixture of annoyance and amusement as people took in the two of them, and Yuuri found himself entwining his fingers with Viktor’s free hand, despite being in public.

 

He needed to feel Viktor, here, in the moment with him.

 

When they got in the car, Viktor awkwardly hopped over the center console and smothered Yuuri in a kiss, lips desperate and chapped from the dryness of air travel.

 

Chuckling, Yuuri pushed the seat back to give them more room, making out with Viktor for a few minutes.  It was still hard to grasp, how much just touching his boyfriend gave him a sense of security and love.  He’d missed it this last week.

 

Eventually, Yuuri broke the kiss up, and whispered, “Let’s save the rest until we get home, okay?”

 

“Da,” Viktor agreed, pressing one final kiss to Yuuri’s nose and hopping into the passenger seat.

 

Yuuri wasn’t a big fan of driving, so when he did he was very careful of the road.  They didn’t discuss much past small talk:  Viktor’s flight went well.  The in-flight meal was so spicy that he almost died.  Yurio’s program is definitely one to beat this season.

 

When they got back to the onsen, Yuuri helped Viktor with his bags, trying his best not to smile too much as they stepped into the inn.

 

The main dining room was quiet, as it was basically almost the middle of the night.  They quickly went to Viktor’s room, and as soon as the door was closed, Viktor tackled Yuuri against the bed.

 

“Can’t even wait until you unpack?” Yuuri felt a rush of affection, of feeling so wanted by this man.

 

“No,” Viktor pouted, then kissed Yuuri again, pulling Yuuri’s bottom lip between his teeth.  “Unpacking can wait until tomorrow.  I’m too tired to unpack.”

 

“But not too tired for this?”  Yuuri was grinning stupidly as Viktor started pressing kisses down his jaw and onto his neck, hands starting to pull at Yuuri’s shirt.

 

Finally, Yuuri pushed Viktor up so that they were both seated, staring at each other.

 

“I, um, have a surprise, but if you’re not into it that’s totally fine, I just… um... “

 

Blinking rapidly, Viktor stared at Yuuri for a few moments before nodding eagerly.  “Tell me.”

 

It was a fantasy that Yuuri had had for a few months back when he was nineteen.  It was a little strange, but for those few months it was his go-to thing to imagine when he was jerking off.

 

With shaking fingers, Yuuri removed the item in question and laid it out on the bed.

 

Viktor bit his lip, peering at Yuuri with interest.

 

“You’ll have to let me in on what we’ll be doing with a leash and collar, Yuuri.”

 

His hands were trembling, as he stuttered out, “Well, um, I was thinking… no, actually it’s fine we don’t have to…”

 

Viktor smiled then, taking Yuuri’s hands in his own and pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead.  “Tell me, Yuuri.  I’ve already told you, I’m not going to shame you.  There’s just a lot of possibilities and I want to know what you wanted, specifically.”

 

His trembling was eased a little, and Viktor did something unexpected, and moved to settle in behind Yuuri, who was kneeling on the bed, and hugged him from behind, resting his head on Yuuri’s shoulder.

 

It was odd, but not having to make eye contact with Viktor, yet having him being physically comforting him, made the words start to form.

 

“Okay, so I know that usually I’m in charge in the bedroom, but I had this fantasy, a few years back.  It’s a little… just stop me if you won’t be into it…”

 

“Yuuuuuuri,” Viktor sighed, hiking up Yuuri’s shirt a little to let his fingers wander delicately across Yuuri’s skin, which emboldened Yuuri further.

 

“I imagined that you were dominating me, and fucking me from behind while I was on my hands and knees.  Except, um, you had a collar and leash on me.  So that I couldn’t get away, and you’d tug on it every once and awhile to remind me who was in charge.”

 

His breathing was hiking up.  He didn’t usually explain the content of his kinky imagination out loud, and it was scaring him, not knowing whether Viktor was judging him or not.

 

“So, you’d want me to top?”

 

Yuuri nodded, fingers finding Viktor’s hands and holding onto them for comfort.

 

“It would involve a little bit of role playing then, da?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Hmm.  It would also be a little bit about the asphyxiation of tugging on the leash, right?”

 

Yuuri was glad that VIktor picked up on that without him having to say it out loud.

 

“Our safe word is still strawberry, correct?”

 

“Yupp.”

 

Viktor was thoughtful for a few minutes, then pressed a kiss against Yuuri’s shoulder, just where his head had been resting.  “I wouldn’t want to disappoint with a bad performance though, Yuuri.  I’d hate to ruin this fantasy for you.”

 

Yuuri was so surprised that he turned around, and saw that Viktor looked a little… well, nervous.

 

“You can’t ruin it.  I have plenty of…” Yuuri swallowed the words _other fantasies_ before he continued, “You couldn’t.  Obviously you can say no.  I’m not going to force you into anything.”

 

Pensive for a few minutes, Viktor said, “Yuuri, we never really discussed whether or not your family can hear us from here.”

 

It was so out of the blue that Yuuri couldn’t respond for a moment, until he mumbled, “My parents are on the other side of the inn, by the guests.  Mari is staying at a friend’s house tonight.  We basically have this whole wing to ourselves.”

 

Nodding, Viktor fixed Yuuri with a stare.

 

“Good.  I don’t want anyone but me to hear when you scream my name.”

 

The tone was different, almost an order, so much so that his words shot right to Yuuri’s cock, and he shuddered.

 

“Take off your clothes,” Viktor ordered, and Yuuri was stunned before Viktor fixed him with a look so terrifyingly sexy that Yuuri hopped off the bed, quickly starting to strip…

 

“Slower,” Viktor snapped, and Yuuri was having trouble breathing because Viktor’s voice was doing… things to him...

 

...good things.  His words were almost as sexual as Viktor’s hands on him.

 

Yuuri started with his shirt, hiking it up and drawing it over his head.  Once the shirt was off, though, Viktor put up his finger and said, “Wait, stay still.”

 

Obedient, Yuuri waited as Viktor picked up the black, leather collar and unbuckled it.  He got up, carefully putting it around Yuuri’s neck.  As it was fastened, the soft underside of it fitting comfortably around Yuuri, his pulse picked up.

 

After that, Viktor took the chained leash and buckled it on, tugging on it for good measure.  Yuuri felt himself getting hard at that, loving the way Viktor was smiling at him, the way he looked like he was in complete control.

 

Yuuri might prefer dominating, but tonight he was very happy with being dominated.

 

Once the leash was tested, Viktor eyed Yuuri like he was a particularly delicious meal to be devoured.  Then, he backed up to the bed, giving Yuuri enough leash to stay standing, and held onto the other side, fingers tight around the leather handle.

 

“You can keep going, now.”

 

Yuuri dropped his pants and underwear in one go, and once Viktor’s eyes settled on Yuuri’s cock, he could see his dominating mask falter for a second, then went right back up.

 

“Come here,” Viktor barked, tugging on the leash, and Yuuri could feel his knees going weak from the command, walking over to the bed.

 

Viktor pulled him onto it, then commanded, “Undress me.”

 

His fingers were still tight around the leash.

 

Yuuri’s fingers fumbled with Viktor’s shirt.  Taking it off required Viktor to relinquish the leash for a moment, but as soon as the shirt was tossed onto the floor he picked it back up, pulling Yuuri closer to him with it, a smirk on his lips.

 

“You won’t get away that easily.”

 

It was weird, but also extremely comforting that this was the fantasy Yuuri had chosen for that night.  Their separation had made Yuuri extremely nervous, that Viktor would want to leave, that Yuuri wasn’t good enough for his coach.

 

With Viktor taking control like this, Yuuri thought as he gently unraveled the scarf from around Viktor’s neck and placed it carefully onto the bedside table, Viktor was proving that he wanted Yuuri.  With each tug, Yuuri felt more secure in his feelings.

 

It was also making Yuuri pant and whine and shudder with sexual desire.

 

Once Viktor’s clothes were off, Viktor used the leash to pull Yuuri towards him, and their lips met in a passionate kiss before Viktor ordered, “Hands and knees.”

 

Shaking a little in anticipation, Yuuri turned away from Viktor, forearms on the bed and ass in the air.  He felt so unbelievably exposed in this position, surrendering so much control to Viktor.

 

Usually, that’s why Yuuri prefers to be in control.  Tonight, however it was just what he needed.

 

Yuuri felt a sharp tug on the leash as Viktor commanded, “Stay still.  I’m going to get you ready.”

 

His breathing was labored as he waited for Viktor to get the lube, never letting go of the leash.  Then, the click of the bottle opening, the squirting sound made Yuuri drop his forehead onto the bed, to collect himself.

 

Another sharp tug of the leash brought his head back up as Viktor whispered, “Bad boy.  I told you not to move.”

 

Yuuri hadn’t even been touched yet, and he was painfully, unbearably hard.

 

Then, Yuuri felt a finger start to probe at his opening, and he hissed as the chill against his skin made him tingle in anticipation.

 

Then, Viktor pressed two fingers into him, and Yuuri wanted to writhe at the painful but exhilarating sensation, but Viktor tugged again on the leash, a warning for Yuuri to keep still.

 

At this point, Yuuri was very sure that Viktor was enjoying playing his role.

 

Viktor continued to press into Yuuri, flexing his fingers against his walls, scissoring them to stretch him further, and Yuuri wanted to press back, wanted to move somehow, but he couldn’t, because if he moved he would be disobeying.

 

It was then that Yuuri felt the white-hot feeling pooling in his gut, of being completely at Viktor’s mercy.

 

Viktor continued to open Yuuri up, and at some point Yuuri was very sure that the movement of Viktor’s fingers inside of him was just to mess with him, and tempt Yuuri to move.

 

Instead, Yuuri decided to try something different.

 

“Viktor,” he whined, trying to catch his breath, “I need you, Viktor.  Fuck me, please.”

 

The fingers stilled for a moment, then continued teasing Yuuri.  

 

“I need you to beg for it, Yuuri.”

 

Gasping, Yuuri moaned, “Viktor, I need you,” his voice was breathy and desperate, “I need you to fuck me, baby, please.”

 

Viktor chuckled low in his throat, and Yuuri sighed in relief when Viktor’s fingers left him.  There were a few moments where Viktor must have been putting the condom on, and then there was a press against his opening, and the sharp and luxurious sting of Viktor pressing in.

 

Yuuri started moving his hips back to match Viktor’s thrust, but Viktor tugged on the leash, saying breathlessly, “I told you not to move.”

 

“Oh, please, Viktor, you feel so good,” Yuuri gasped, shaking as he forced himself to stay still, “I can’t help it.”

 

Viktor tightened his grip on the leash as he bottomed out, making Yuuri’s head fall back, staring straight ahead with pressure on his windpipe.

 

“Let me know if you need me to loosen it,” Viktor said softly then, in his normal voice, and Yuuri whined, making Viktor correct himself.

 

“You need to tell me if you need me to let you breathe more, or else I’ll have to punish you.”

 

Yuuri’s chest was expanding and contracting in sharp gasps, and then Viktor started moving.

 

The tight grip Viktor held made it so that Yuuri had to take every thrust harshly, not able to shift his body to lessen the blow, and Yuuri was losing it.  He started babbling incoherently in Japanese, his mind going fuzzy from a combination of lightheadedness from the shortness of breath and pure unadulterated lust.

 

Then, Viktor started tugging gently back with each thrust, making Yuuri take him even more punishingly, and with the change in his angle he hit Yuuri’s prostate a few times in a row.

 

White filled Yuuri’s vision as he came, screaming Viktor’s name, but his ears were ringing from the high and he couldn’t hear himself _think_ let alone hear himself talk.

 

Viktor kept going for a little bit, whispering something to Yuuri, but he couldn’t really hear him past knowing that they were comforting words.

 

The other man must have come as well, because suddenly Yuuri felt the loss from him, hissing as the air hit the lube dripping from his hole, but actually it felt like a lot more lube…

 

Viktor’s hands were suddenly all over Yuuri, whispering soothing words.  The leash was taken off, and Yuuri was guided to lie on his stomach on the bed, kisses peppering his back.

 

“I’m going to get a rag,” Viktor said softly, and Yuuri waited patiently, still feeling like he was floating somewhere in the stratosphere.

 

When Viktor came back, he quickly wiped Yuuri down, then guided him to the side of the bed that was unsoiled.  Viktor massaged his lower back gently, whispering, “That was incredible.  You did so well for me, _solnishko_.”

 

Yuuri hummed at the praise, eyes closed, as Viktor ran the warm washcloth over his sore muscles.

 

“Yuuri, I’m going to tell you something and I need you not to freak out.”

 

The words hit his stomach, souring his mood, making him open his eyes.  His windpipe was still a little sore as he asked, “What?”

 

“The condom broke,” Viktor said softly, “I’m sure that I’m not carrying anything, but I haven’t been tested since coming here.”

 

Blinking, Yuuri moved to sit up, but the pain in his lower back prevented him from doing so.

 

“There’s a next to zero chance that I gave you something,” Viktor reassured, continuing to rub him down soothingly, “Maybe we should both go get a check-up though?  I think that we put that off for long enough.”

 

Yuuri had finally put together that that extra liquid coming out of him was Viktor’s come, and it made him blush.  Viktor hadn’t been able to get all the way into his hole while cleaning it up, which meant it was still there…

 

Burying his face into the sheets, he was embarrassingly turned on by the idea, especially given the nature of the situation.

 

“We can go this week,” Yuuri agreed, and Viktor’s warm fingers moved to massage his upper back, the soothing release of Yuuri’s muscles making him positively melt.

 

“Was it good for you, love?”

 

“So good,” Yuuri croaked, and was very grateful that they didn’t have practice the next day, because he would have a hard time moving tomorrow.

 

Viktor pressed a grinning kiss to the space between Yuuri’s shoulder blades.  “I’m glad.  It was kind of fun, switching over the power.  I still love when you’re in charge, though.”

 

“Me too,” Yuuri agreed, “I think I needed this tonight, though.  Just wait until we get around to the other things I bought for us.”

 

Viktor stilled.  “Other things?”

 

Chuckling, Yuuri smiled goofily.  “You’ll just have to wait to see.”

  


***

  


The next morning, when Viktor walked into the kitchen to retrieve breakfast for Yuuri (he decided to surprise the sore man with breakfast in bed), he gasped when he came into the room to Hiroko putting the finishing touches on a huge stack of fluffy pancakes.

 

“Oh, Vicchan, I’m glad you’re up!  Welcome home!”

 

Viktor’s stomach twisted into happy knots as he stared at the pancakes, saying in chocolate syrup _Welcome Back!_

 

Choking up a little, Viktor crushed Hiroko into a hug, and the woman laughed, patting his back gently.  

 

“You’re a part of our family, now.  We missed you dearly.  Are you able to prepare dinner with me tonight?”

 

Viktor couldn’t help but think of his own mother in Russia as he tightened his grip on Hiroko.  “Thank you.  I can’t wait to cook with you again.  I missed you all, too.”

 

***

  


Viktor was watching Yuuri practice on the next morning, very impressed with the improvements he was showcasing regarding his step sequences.

 

That was when he got a call on his phone from Phichit.

 

When he answered, he waved to Yuuri and pointed to his phone, who nodded and continued to work on his step sequence as Viktor wandered towards the locker room.

 

“Phichit!  It’s good to hear from you.  How’s training?”

 

“It’s going very well!  You and Yuuri better watch out, because I’m going to give you a run for your money.”

 

Viktor scoffed, muttering happily, “I’m sure you’re good, but my Yuuri will wipe the floor with the rest of you.”

 

“You’re on, Nikiforov,” Phichit laughed, then stopped abruptly, switching tones.  “I actually called for a specific reason.  Are you with Yuuri right now?”

 

“Just stepped out of practice,” Viktor assured, walking out to the area outside the rink, the sunlight shining against the asphalt and making the air shimmer, looking like the inside of a convection oven.

 

“Okay, so you know how Yuuri hadn’t cut in like two years?”

 

Viktor froze.  The topic hadn’t come up in a few days, and it still made Viktor extremely tense when thinking about the idea of Yuuri hurting himself.  “Yeah, he said something about that.”

 

“Well, Yuuri and I did this thing after he quit.  Every month on the anniversary we’d have a little celebration.  Usually it involved blowing out a candle on a cupcake, or going out to a nice dinner.  It was our way of motivating Yuuri to keep going, for a while.  Then, after the first year, we decided to only celebrate every six months.”

 

The thought of Phichit being so supportive made Viktor’s heart melt a little bit.  “That sounds lovely.”

 

“It is, except for the fact that Thursday is supposed to be his two year anniversary.”

 

Viktor still wasn’t quite understanding.  “You can come visit, you know.  I can even deal with Celestino…”

 

“You don’t get it,” Phichit cut him off, “Yuuri is insisting that he doesn’t deserve to celebrate because of his relapse.  He won’t let me come to visit.”

 

Oh.

 

Viktor’s heart clenched, thinking about how good Yuuri had been doing the last few weeks.  The select few times that Yuuri admitted to feeling the urge to cut, he made sure to inform him or a family member, and would immediately work on utilizing his coping skills.

 

He’d been doing so well, Viktor hadn’t even bothered to wonder if Yuuri was still guilting himself over it.

 

“What should we do?”

  


***

  


On Thursday, as Mari and him walked in from after therapy, Yuuri saw that his mother was waving for him to come greet her.

 

“Baby, I need you to follow me, alright?”

 

Confused, Yuuri followed his mother back into the hallway, and she opened the door to one of the party rooms.

 

The room was dark, but there was a tiny assortment of cupcakes on the table in the middle, each with a little candle in them.  When Yuuri got closer, mesmerized, he saw that they were laid out in the shape of a two.

 

Tears formed in his eyes as he looked up and saw Viktor standing there, smiling widely.  The door closed, and they were alone.

 

At least, that’s what he thought, until Viktor said, “You can come out, now.”

 

Yuuri saw movement to his left, and he looked over and saw Phichit smiling at him, and Yuuri launched at his friend, pulling him into a tight hug.

 

Tears were falling down Yuuri’s face as his friend whispered, “Happy anniversary, Yuuri.”

 

When they pulled apart, Viktor lead him back over to the candles, and Yuuri was completely at a loss, between the cupcakes and two of the people he loved the most standing on either side of him, smiling proudly.

 

“Make a wish, love,” Viktor teased, and Yuuri closed his eyes and blew.

 

_I wish that I can keep all my loved ones near to me.  I wish that I’m lucky enough to keep them all by my side.  I need them, and cherish them more than they could ever know._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the end, friends! (Edited 10/18/17)
> 
> Next up: Yuuri and Phichit get to enjoy best friend time together. 
> 
> As always, I love love love feedback. Let me know what you think in the comments! Yell at me about YOI!
> 
> If you like this, check out my other YOI fics!


	22. Silver Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is ecstatic to spend some time with his best friend. Viktor becomes uncertain about things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello hello!
> 
> I'm so sorry that I made you guys wait a week, but I think, in order to maintain the longevity I'm trying to keep with this story, I'm going to make it a once-a-week update. Don't get me wrong, I might update with a surprise other days of the week if I'm feeling inspired, but let's say that every Monday will be a new chapter.
> 
> ALSO: CALLING ALL ARTISTS: I'm looking for anyone who does fan art for this or any of my fics to share with me/tag me (tumblr: painted-lady12 and twitter: painted_lady12). If you haven't done fan art yet, but are feeling inspired, I can cut a deal: anyone who does art and submits it can also submit a prompt. I'll complete the prompt in a one-off fanfic in under 2,000 words, and feature your art on the respective fic. If you have questions or want clarification, just message me on tumblr/twitter. This is just me really wanting to see art of my version of the boys. If not, that's totally fine too! I'm just happy you guys are here<3
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: please refer to the tags. There will be discussion of anxiety and depression, as well as unhealthy coping. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Go to the store and purchase all the materials for cupcakes, and also a container of Oreos. Prepare cupcake batter as instructed, pour half the batter in the cupcake tin. Place Oreo on top of batter. Fill with the other half of the batter. Repeat with each cupcake. OREO CUPCAKES!
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

Phichit was only able to stay two days due to Celestino having a fit that his skater disappeared, but they made the most of the two days.  Viktor assured Celestino that Phichit could practice with them during the day.  At night, Phichit and them relaxed in the onsen, ate katsudon, and caught up.

 

That first night, Yuuri, Mari, Viktor and Phichit were walking out by the water, the air dripping with humidity and brimming with possibilities.

 

Due to how dark it was, Yuuri and Viktor were holding hands.  Phichit and Mari were walking ahead of them, and when Phichit glanced back, he smiled knowingly.

  
  


***

  
  


The day after, with Phichit and Yuuri practicing, Viktor watched as Yuuri showed a whole new side of himself.

 

When he was with Viktor, his skating was concentrated and expressive.  With Phichit on the ice with him, he looked… so carefree.  His jumps were higher.  His step sequences were more confident.  Phichit was yelling and cheering from the edge of the rink.

 

They kept goofing off, too.  Their favorite pastime was taking the back of the other’s shirt and bringing it over their head like a hood.  Otherwise, they kept stopping short in front of each other, sending ice chips all over their outfits.

 

Viktor quietly sat on the side, watching the exchange, feeling a pang in his chest for Chris.

 

Yuuri skated up halfway through, face vibrant and ecstatic, wiping sweat on his towel.  “What do you want me to work on next, coach?”

 

Viktor put his hands up in defeat.  “I'm not the coach today.  Phichit is the one who has gotten you to perform today, not me.”

 

Startled, Yuuri eyed Viktor warily.  “Are you okay?”

 

“Yes!  Sorry, I was thinking about how much you two remind me about me and Chris.  It's all nostalgia, I promise.”

 

Grinning, Yuuri leaned further over the divider.  “I know a way you can motivate me that only you can do, coach.”

 

_ You’re always finding new ways to surprise me, Yuuri Katsuki. _

 

Viktor leaned forward and captured his lips in a kiss, short, soft.  As Yuuri pulled away, he bit at Viktor's lip, smiling with it between his teeth.

 

Chuckling as they came apart, Viktor muttered, “Cool it on Eros today, Yuuri.  I think you've got it down.”

  
  


***

  
  


That night, Viktor, Phichit and Yuuri were out to dinner, and Viktor was laughing hysterically at the story Phichit was telling.

 

Yuuri and Phichit were opposite Viktor at the table, telling the story cohesively enough that one would think they could read each other’s minds

 

“So Yuuri gets the idea to hop on the table, shirtless, and starts  _ pole dancing. _ Like, really sloppily, but it was still great.  Who did you hook up with that night, Yuuri?”

 

Blushing, Yuuri quipped, “I don't think Viktor wants to hear about that, Phichit.”

 

Viktor waved the fear away.  “No, I'm curious!”

 

Face softening, Yuuri mumbled, “Elliott.”

 

“Right, the fuckboy from the fraternity.  So, apparently they called Elliott to come kick Yuuri out of the house, but he thought Yuuri was so sexy that he hopped up and started grinding on him instead.”

 

Viktor laughed, having a pretty good idea of what that would look like from his own experience.

 

Which was probably why Yuuri was so red right now, right?  He was probably remembering.

 

The way that they came together was definitely also due to alcohol-induced pole dancing, after all.

 

“Alright, so then I lose him for a little bit, right?  I find him on the  _ roof _ , and he's grinning over all these shoes, right?  Apparently the frat guy was a douche, so he ran around the house and stole anyone’s left shoe that was wearing flip flops or easy to slide off shoes.  That was his punishment.”

 

Yuuri groaned, looking like he’d rather bury his face in his food.  “It made sense at the time.”

 

“It was also Cinco de Mayo,” Phichit reminded Yuuri.

 

Yuuri snorted, saying happily, “oh, right, that was the night that I kept getting people to take shots of tequila with me by insisting that the holiday demanded it.”

 

“You were so trashed,” Phichit reminisced fondly, “I’m also pretty sure frat fuckboy ended up driving us home because Yuuri held his shoe hostage.”

 

“Then I made out with him in the backseat after you went into the house.”

 

“I knew saying that you wanted to give him a piece of your mind was fake!” Phichit accused, pointing his fork at Yuuri in false shock.

 

Viktor was watching the exchange with the feeling of loss.  This was a side of Yuuri that Phichit got to see.  Their friendship made Yuuri so happy, it was impossible not to feel insufficient.

 

Viktor laughed and smiled and talked as the emptiness grew. 

 

_ Let Yuuri have this.  You can't keep him all to himself.  You invited Phichit here. _

 

Yuuri didn't notice Viktor’s mood, however, because Phichit was telling about all his antics with Celestino, and they ended up staying at the restaurant until almost closing time.

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri and Phichit got drunk together later that night and talked about Viktor.

 

Viktor had excused himself to answer some emails, but really he just wanted to give them alone time.

 

Yuuri was on his fourth screwdriver when Phichit asked him drunkenly, “So how’s the sex, anyway?”

 

Choking a little, Phichit laughed at him as Yuuri struggled to breath to cough out, “You couldn’t have waited until after I finished my drink?”

 

“Nope!”

 

Yuuri’s nose crinkled in distaste.  

 

Then, his face lit up with happiness.  “The sex is good.  Really good, actually.  I feel like we can really communicate and listen to each other.  It feels so natural.”

 

Phichit patted him on the back.  “I’m happy for you.”

 

Yuuri was thoughtful for a short while, then said, “Phichit, I owe you a thank you.”

 

Curious, Phichit patted Yuuri on the back.  “You’re welcome, though I'm not sure why.”

 

“You’re probably the reason I'm even here today,” Yuuri’s face was pensive as he took another sip of his drink.

 

“I love you, you idiot.  Of course I'm going to look out for you.”

 

Tears gathered up in Yuuri’s eyes, and they hugged.

 

“Okay, but really, how is the sex?”

 

Yuuri snorted, wiping his eyes.  “We listen to each other.  We’re both a little kinky.  We switch.  Usually I'm in charge…”

 

Phichit spit out his drink.  “You  _ what?” _

 

Yuuri’s already blushing face reddened further, as he muttered, “I… it helps with my anxiety.  If I'm in charge I'm in control of how fast we go and what we do.  Sometimes Viktor takes the reigns…” Yuuri wanted to laugh out loud at his choice of words, “but usually I'm in charge.”

 

“My baby Yuuri, growing up and dominating Viktor Nikiforov.  I'm so proud…..” Phichit hugged him, sniffling fakely.  

 

Yuuri groaned, throwing his friend off of him.  “Shut up, Phichit.”

 

When Yuuri saw Phichit start twiddling with his phone, he eyed him dangerously.  “If you tweet about this you won't make it to competition season.”

 

A shiver ran down Phichit’s spine, and he threw Yuuri a shit-eating grin.  “Yes,  _ master.” _

 

Appalled, Yuuri finished his drink and chased Phichit around the room, trying to get at his phone.

 

Eventually Yuuri tackled Phichit to the ground just as Mari walked in, looking bemused.

  
  


***

  
  


The next morning, as Phichit was getting ready to leave, Viktor walked in and closed the door to the guest room behind him.

 

“Hey,” Phichit said happily, but there was something in Viktor’s face that was off.

 

“Hey.  I came to talk to you.”

 

Raising an eyebrow, Phichit asked, “what's with the long face?”  When Viktor didn’t answer, Phichit realized that something was seriously up.  “Talk away.”

 

“Yuuri told me about you almost tweeting about us last night.  Yuuri and I have decided to keep our relationship fairly under wraps because we want the media focus to be on his return, not on the scandal of a coach dating his student.”

 

There was a heavy silence as Phichit shifted on the hardwood, making the floor squeak beneath him.

 

“I like you, Phichit.  Yuuri has been so happy with you here.  Can you just let us decide when we’re ready to tell the world?”

 

Phichit put his right hand up in a salute.  “Yes, sir.”

  
  


***

  
  


When Phichit left, Yuuri felt his mood drop substantially.  

 

With his friend, the world felt lighter.  If Viktor was Yuuri’s pillar of strength, Phichit was his sunshine.  

 

As he stared at his food, Viktor tucked some of Yuuri’s hair behind his ear, brushing his cheek

 

“Are you alright,  _ solnishko _ ?”

 

Yuuri sighed, forcing himself to take another bite.  “I miss not being with him all the time.  I don't think I realized how much until he left again.”

 

“It's going to be okay, love.”

 

Yuuri nodded, leaning into Viktor’s awaiting embrace, burying his nose into his chest and breathing in the soothing scent of Viktor.  

 

Things weren't okay right now.

 

That was okay, though, because eventually they would be again.

 

Time was fickle like that.

  
  


***

  
  


That night, as Yuuri was about to fall asleep, Viktor pressed a kiss into his lover’s hair.

 

“I want to make love tonight, Yuuri.”

 

The Japanese man smiled goofily.  “You don't have to announce it all the time, Viktor.”

 

“I like to, though,” Viktor’s smile was tight, and Yuuri climbed on top of him, searching his eyes.

 

“Is everything okay?”

 

“I just want to feel wanted by you.”

 

Yuuri ground his hips down, crashing their lips together.

 

Viktor’s legs wrapped around Yuuri’s waist, keeping him close.

 

They kissed passionately for a few minutes until Viktor could feel Yuuri’s hardness pressing against his own, making him gasp out in pleasure.

 

“See how much I want you, Viktor?  You’re everything I want,” Yuuri ducked to press kisses along his neck and collarbone, “you’re perfect for me.”

 

Tears gathered in Viktor’s eyes as Yuuri continued to lavish him in love and affection until they were both hard, clutching each other close and rutting against each other through their clothes.

 

“I love you, Viktor,” Yuuri whispered, “I've dreamed about having you for years.  Do you know what it's like to get exactly what you want?”

 

Viktor was clinging to the words like his life depended on it, because the swirling darkness in his chest demanded to hear something, anything to make him feel even the smallest bit better.

 

Yuuri gasped suddenly, pressing kisses to Viktor’s wet cheeks; oh.  He was crying.

 

“Viktor, is this okay?  Do you want to stop?  We can just cuddle.  We can go shower and relax.  Talk to me.”

 

“No, I need this, trust me.”

 

Nodding, Yuuri pressed kisses to skin as he pulled off Viktor’s clothes, looking up for permission with each item just in case Viktor changed his mind.  

 

When Yuuri entered Viktor, on their sides, spooning, Yuuri whispered sweet nothings in Viktor’s ear as Viktor gasped and sputtered and cried and held onto Yuuri’s hands for dear life.

 

“I’m yours, Viktor.  Never doubt that I want you.  Never doubt that you’re my everything.”

 

Nodding, Viktor brought Yuuri’s hand up to kiss it, taking his fingers into his mouth and sucking on them generously.  

 

Yuuri set a very slow pace, wrapping Viktor in his arms, pressing kisses into the back of his neck, his hair, his cheek.  Viktor’s eyes never dried, a constant flow of tears streaming down his face as he was encircled in love and affection.

 

They took their time, staying together and rocking slowly, warm and together and real.

 

When Yuuri felt Viktor’s breathing start to pick up, he angled his hips higher, pounding into his lover, still holding him and stroking his body soothingly.  When Viktor came, Yuuri held him close, readying to pull out of Viktor when Viktor grabbed him and held him close.

 

“No, don't stop,”  Viktor breathed, still racked with aftershocks, and Yuuri continued to pound into him, hands tightening on Viktor as he felt his own orgasm start to overwhelm him.

 

When Yuuri came, he moved to pull out of Viktor again, but Viktor held Yuuri to him.

 

“Not yet.”

 

Yuuri felt himself soften in his lover.  Viktor was shaking with sobs, and Yuuri held him close as he fell apart.

  
  


***

  
  


The next morning, Yuuri caught Viktor’s arm as he tried to sneak out of bed.

 

“You're not getting away that easily.”

 

Whining, Viktor tugged lightly on his arm, “Yuuuuuri…”

 

“Nope.  Come back.”

 

Viktor sighed and fell back onto the bed, hiding his face in the pillow.

 

“Viktor, talk to me.  What was going on last night?  I've given you a lot of space with everything, but that… I just need to know what was going on.”  

 

Sighing, Viktor turned over, staring at the ceiling.  “I’m not your everything.”

 

Cocking his head to the side, Yuuri asked, “What?”

 

“I’m not your everything.  Last night you called me your everything.  You said that I was everything that you want, but that isn’t true.  Phichit...”

 

Yuuri’s eyes widened.  “Phichit and I aren’t like that…”

 

Viktor shook his head quickly, sitting up, “No, no, that’s not what I was saying…”

 

Taking a deep breath, Viktor took Yuuri’s hands in his own, staring down at them and struggling to begin.

 

“I’m saying that, if we were in a world, just us two, you wouldn’t be happy.  You’d want your family, and Phichit, and Minako, and the Nishigoris…”

 

It was like Viktor was visibly deflating with each word.  “I’m not your everything.  I want that to be okay.  I want to be satisfied with just being a part of your everything.  Watching you with Phichit this week, though, just reminded me that you don’t need me.”

 

Yuuri stroked Viktor’s face gently.  “I will always need you.”

 

“No, you don’t,” Viktor knew he sounded petty, and childish, and he knew that his feelings were being fueled by the growing darkness inside of him, but he couldn’t stop.  “Wasn’t that the whole point of last week?  To gain some distance and perspective.  To help ourselves be more fulfilled, apart.  You don’t need me, Yuuri.  You can talk to Mari about you anxiety, you can go to Phichit to cheer you up.  I’m… what am I to you?!”

 

The words echoed around the room hollowly, and Yuuri visibly shrunk at the words.

 

“You’re my boyfriend, Viktor.  You’re my coach…” Yuuri felt himself start to shake with emotion, “How could you say that to me?  When we just made love, last night?  When we’re working so hard to build something together?  Remember Yuri on Ice?  That’s ours!”

 

“I need a walk,” Viktor muttered, and he stalked off.

 

Yuuri’s hand was outstretched towards him as he exited the room, feeling a chill run down his spine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T HATE ME
> 
> We all know they end up together so just take a deep breath.
> 
> Thank you all for being patient with me this week:)
> 
> If you like this, check out my other YOI fics! "Thin Line Between Us" is my other ongoing fic, as well as "Scattered Melodies" is a little experiment I'm trying out.


	23. Silver Trumpet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri try to sort through the complicated emotions that arose with their last confrontation. Later, the two go on a date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my loves<3
> 
> So I wanted to write something to all of you, a little "thank you" of sorts. I started writing this fic during a very difficult time of my life. I had relapsed myself last year, and have been crawling back from that inch by inch. This fic has been extremely instrumental to my recovery. For those of you that have commented that this fic has helped you, or that you really connect with Viktor or Yuuri, I'm speechless. It moves me to tears when I hear this, because I know what it's like to be in that dark place. You are all strong and fierce and I'm incredibly blessed to have you reading this.
> 
> That being said, I'm so sorry for last week, but our boys needed to have that conversation. Sometimes communication is well thought out interventions and sometimes it's short bursts of emotion. Life is messy like that.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of anxiety and depression, as well as references to self harm. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Throw on the Yuri! on Ice soundtrack with that loved one and talk it out. Sometimes beautiful music soothes the soul like nothing else can.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

Yuuri stretched out in his yoga poses, trying to focus on the breath, but all he could hear was Viktor’s voice in his head, repeating over and over.

 

He wondered what he could have done differently.  He ran over all of their interactions in the last few days, and critiqued every action, before he realized that it was pointless to try to distract himself right now.

 

Unfortunately, he still had practice, and a very clipped text message from Viktor stating _Ice Castle at 10:00_

 

Yuuri’s whole body was buzzing as he was getting ready.  All of his insecurities from when Viktor first came were trying to fight their way to the surface, only this time it was tangled with other, more complicated emotions of love and attraction, sticky and menacing.

 

He failed Viktor.  He wasn’t sure how, but he failed him.  Clearly, Phichit coming was a mistake.  Clearly, Yuuri should have had the foresight to prevent Viktor from feeling this way…

 

He kept thinking back to the way Viktor clung to him the night before, shaking like a leaf, and how terrifying that was.   _I did that to him.  I hurt him like that.  How will he ever forgive me…_

 

At Ice Castle, Viktor wasted no time.  They quickly slipped into coach and student.  Where there were usually lingering glances and unnecessary touches, there were instead orders barked and criticism given.  Every time Viktor critiqued something, Yuuri could feel it cut all the way down to his bones.

 

When he launched up into a quadruple toe loop, and over-rotated, he spiraled around onto the ice, staring up at the ceiling on his back, feeling paralyzed.

 

Yuuri knew, logically, that he was fine, save a bruise or two on his elbows.  However, the thought of getting up, of failing again…

 

Viktor skated over to him, looking down at Yuuri with a neutral expression.  “I think we need to take a break for the rest of the day.”

 

Anger boiled up in Yuuri’s stomach, though he wasn’t sure why; he knew that Viktor was punishing him.  

 

He knew that he deserved it.

 

Yuuri stood up, the anger motivating him, and brushed himself off, skating away from Viktor as fast as he could.

  


***

  


When Viktor came into Yuuri’s room later, he saw that the other man was nowhere to be found.

 

Instead, he wandered over to Mari’s room.  Yuuri’s sister was on her computer watching Netflix, and Yuuri was on her bed, hands shaking as he continued to work on a hat.

 

His fingers were crocheting dutifully.  Viktor sighed, knocking on the open door, and the two of them looked up; Yuuri with fear, Mari with anger.

 

“Hey, this is a Viktor-free zone, right now.”

 

“But…”

 

Mari shushed Viktor, guiding him out into the hall and slamming her door behind them, looking up at Viktor with pointed brown eyes.

 

“Yuuri is in here because he doesn’t feel safe to be alone.  He insists that he needs to be punished.  Right now, he’s emotionally vulnerable, and he’ll do anything to earn your forgiveness because he doesn’t want to feel like shit anymore.  But here’s the thing,” she jabbed Viktor’s sternum with her finger, eyes narrowing, “This is your insecurity that you need to deal with.  There’s a right and wrong way to approach it with Yuuri.  You did it wrong.”

 

Feeling utterly empty and blank, Viktor sighed, the black hole stretching in his gut.

 

“Why can’t I see him?”

 

“He needs to marinate a little bit, and get his thoughts together.  Right now it’s taking all his energy not to cut.  He doesn’t have the energy to deal with your problems, too.  You need to give him his space.”

 

Oh, yeah, it hurt like hell.  The darkness inside of Viktor pulsated like a living, breathing thing at the words, and he turned around and left, heading straight for the kitchens.

 

Hiroko was delighted when Viktor walked in, throwing an onion onto the cutting board.  “Vicchan, are you here to help?”

 

Shooting her a fake smile, he muttered, “Sure thing.”

 

The matriarch frowned suddenly, eyebrows furrowing.  “You don’t need to pretend with me, dear.  You can be in whatever mood you want, and you can still cook with me.  Want to throw on some music?”

 

Viktor sniffled, plugging his phone in.  Classical music floated above their heads, and Hiroko sighed, closing her eyes at the gentle piano melody.

 

“Good choice, honey.”

  


***

  


Yuuri’s thoughts were a raging storm.

 

_I want to cut… no that’s stupid that would make Viktor upset… but I deserve it; I hurt him… maybe I should just apologize… no, Mari said I shouldn’t apologize… but anything is better than feeling like this… I can’t quiet my mind… I just want to cut…_

 

His fingers worked at the stitches, one by one, layer by layer.  The thoughts weren’t quieting, but at least while he was doing this, his hands were occupied.

 

Mari leaned over onto the bed and kissed Yuuri’s head, a butterfly’s wing.

 

“How are you doing, kid?”

 

“Everything is scary.”

 

Nodding, she climbed onto the bed with him, sitting opposite him.  “Want to talk about it?”

 

“No, I’m inconveniencing you as it is.  I should be over this, dammit!” Yuuri yelled, throwing his crocheting, the hook clattering loudly to the floor.  “Why can’t I just be better?  Why did I relapse?  I’m so fucking tired of fighting, Mari, it hurts it hurts it _hurts…”_

 

Yuuri was crying now; Mari reached out and gently pried his fingers open from the balls they were curled into, massaging them.

 

“You can’t go back and undo your relapse, Yuuri.  You have an addiction, and you’re dealing with it.  Just look at all the things you’re working on to get better.  I’m so, so proud of you,” Mari squeezed Yuuri’s fingers reassuringly.  “Also, never feel like you’re inconveniencing me with your problems.  We’re family.  I would never abandon you when you need me.”

 

Even though Yuuri wanted to believe that, it was really hard to convince himself of that right now.

 

“I’m going to text mom that I’m going to stay here with you, okay?  How about I throw on something soothing?  We could watch a movie.”

 

Nodding, Yuuri crawled over and put his head in his sister’s lap, feeling pathetic and vulnerable and just so tired of fighting.

 

“I just want the hurt to go away.”

 

“I know, Yuuri.  It will.  You just need patience, and maybe some light hearted movies.”

 

They watched two movies, and Yuuri’s mind was slowly eased by the senseless humor and the calming music.  Mari didn’t leave Yuuri’s side, and by the end of the second movie, Yuuri’s mind was less chaotic.  His thoughts weren’t as cloudy.  His insecurities didn’t seem quite as overwhelming.

 

They were still swirling, but they weren’t all-consuming like they were earlier.

 

“I think I’m okay to talk to him, now,” Yuuri whispered, and Mari nodded, patting him on the back.  

 

“If you need a break, come back.  If you feel unsafe, text me.”

 

Nodding, Yuuri took a few tentative steps out of the room he’d been nesting in, wandering back towards the kitchens.

 

Sure enough, Viktor was washing the dishes, face unreadable.  Toshiya was reading a book at the counter, looking quite peaceful.  When Yuuri walked in, Toshiya stopped what he was reading and wandered over to Viktor, whispering that he’d take over.

 

Viktor glanced at the door, saw Yuuri, and visibly paled.  The two of them walked back to Viktor’s room together, and stood awkwardly on opposite sides of the bed, trying to figure out where to begin.

 

“I want you to hold me,” Viktor said lamely, fingers fidgeting at his sides.

 

“My anxiety is too high right now.  I wouldn’t be able to handle a touch.”

 

They stood in silence for another few seconds before Yuuri began, “I’m still really on edge, but I’m okay enough to talk right now.  If I’m not okay, I’m going to walk out.  It isn’t your fault if that happens, I just really need to focus on keeping myself good right now.”

 

Viktor looked away from him, staring at his own feet.  “It’s my fault.  I shouldn’t have just blurted out my insecurities like that, insinuating that it was your fault.”

 

Yuuri tapped his fingers against his thighs, trying to riddle out what to say.  “We aren’t each other’s everything.  That was the whole point, wasn’t it?”

 

“It was.  It is,” Viktor corrected, looking up at Yuuri pleadingly.  “I was just jealous that Phichit could give you something I couldn’t.  That wasn’t reasonable of me, though.  I can’t be the only one who makes you happy.  That’s manipulation, and as soon as I thought through what I said, I regretted it.”

 

“I can’t depend on you for everything, but I do depend on you for a lot.  How can you think that you aren’t important to me?”  Yuuri choked up with emotion.  “You were my idol.  I practically worshiped you for years.  Now, you’re my boyfriend, and I still can’t believe it’s real sometimes, like I’ll blink and wake up and it was all just a dream.”

 

They were quiet, for a moment, until Yuuri continued, “I love you, Viktor.  There’s so much that’s just yours, and no one else’s.  Maybe we need to spend more time focusing on that.”

 

Sighing, Viktor nodded.  “What is just ours?”

 

“Kisses,” Yuuri started counting off on his fingers.  “Making love.  Swing dancing.  Holding hands.  Dates…”

 

Viktor snapped his fingers, looking immensely pleased all of a sudden.  “That’s it!  We need to go on more dates.”

 

Blinking, Yuuri muttered, “That wasn’t…”

 

“No, no, hear me out,” Viktor was beaming now, though, “It’s not like going on more dates will fix anything.  I just think that if we really want this to work, we need to spend time working on our relationship past making love at night and going on runs.  We need to focus on learning more about each other.  I think we skipped that part, don’t you?”

 

Happy, calming waves were overwhelming Yuuri, and he smiled, relieved.  “Alright then.  Viktor Nikiforov, will you go to dinner with me?”

  


***

  


When Viktor had a private car pull up, Yuuri instantly regretted their decision to go on a dinner date.

 

They’d spent the last day fumbling through interactions, trying to get back into a rhythm after their disagreement.  They’d slept in separate beds because Yuuri’s nerves were too frayed.  Now, they were both dressed in nice suits, and Yuuri was standing outside the private car.

 

Viktor looked dashing in his outfit, a true heart breaker.  “Get in, love.”

 

“Where are we going, again?”

 

Smiling, Viktor tugged Yuuri into the car, and he finally relented, taking a seat next to Viktor.

 

“There’s this really nice restaurant a few towns over!  I managed to get us a reservation!”

 

Yuuri smiled, a little nervous but completely melting at the excited look on Viktor’s face.

 

“You look stunning tonight, Yuuri,” Viktor complemented, and Yuuri blushed, entwining his fingers with Viktor’s.

 

Bright blue eyes met Yuuri’s, and his face immediately mellowed out, like he was distracted by some small detail, and pushed back some of the hair on Yuuri’s forehead, planting a gentle kiss there.

 

“Thank you for indulging me.”

 

Yuuri stared up at Viktor with happiness bubbling in his gut like hot molasses: slow, sticky and sweet.  “Tonight is just for the two of us.  We’re the only people in this world.”

 

When they arrived at the restaurant, Yuuri held the door open for Viktor, and they wandered in.

 

Yuuri marveled at the place.  He’d never been before, and it was gorgeous; paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, there was soft, glowing candlelight everywhere.  The walls were stone, with a thin layer of water flowing over them.  The staff were all dressed in a cool burgundy, creating a splash of color against the neutral tones.

 

“This place is so nice,” Yuuri squeaked, and Viktor smiled at Yuuri.

 

“Only the best for you, love,” Viktor insisted, and Yuuri blushed again as he stuttered out the name on the reservation.

 

They were led back to a small corner booth, the trickling sound of water soothing Yuuri immediately, the soft lantern light casting a gorgeous glow over Viktor’s smug face.

 

“You’re stunning tonight too, Viktor.  I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

 

Shocked for a second, a slow smile stretched across Viktor’s face.  He brushed his hair back and reached for Yuuri’s hand over the tablecloth.  “I’m yours, Yuuri.  I’m not going anywhere.”

 

With the way Viktor was talking, it was easy to forget that Viktor’s insecurities about their relationship was what had driven them here.

 

Yuuri gulped, clutching Viktor’s hand a little tighter, muttering, “I’m yours, too.  Every time I perform Eros, it’s for you.”

 

Viktor’s grip on Yuuri tightened, and he had a slight blush peppering his cheeks when the waitress came over to take their drink order.

 

They ordered waters and small glasses of red wine, and when they were left with silence, Yuuri began, “Viktor, you don’t have to be my everything…”

 

The other man’s eyes widened.  “We don’t have to…”

 

“No, you need to hear this,” Yuuri insisted, feeling bold.  The time he’d been given to think and clear his head had done wonders for him, pushing him to continue, “You’re not someone I need.  If you left, I could survive without you.  You were never something I needed; you are something I _want_.  You’re something I want so desperately that I’d do almost anything to keep you.  I want you right next to me, taking on my 'everything' with me, as a team.”

 

Biting his lip, Viktor nodded, tears forming in his eyes.  “I want you right next to me, too.”

 

The two of them stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments, before the waitress came back with their drinks, and they ordered dinner.

 

Later that night, Viktor had the car pick them up and was driving them in the opposite direction of home.

 

“Viktor…”

 

“Patience, _solnishko_.  I have a surprise.”

 

They ended up in front of a bar, and Yuuri got out, looking at Viktor quizzically.  “What is this?”

 

“It’s designed like a 1920’s American speakeasy.  They play swing music here.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes widened, and he was guided into the bar, where a brass band was crooning out a tune, and people were dressed to the nines, in flapper costumes and slicked back hair and martini glasses.  People were dancing happily, some of them looking professional, and Yuuri felt Viktor guide him to the dance floor.

 

They danced for three songs, fingers lingering, hands touching and reassuring, spinning and laughing and joking.  At some point they were asked to dance with others, and they danced with almost everyone else on the dance floor, gliding around and hopping up and down and stumbling through new moves.  By time Yuuri and Viktor came back together, faces flushed with exertion and sweaty, they wandered over to the bar and ordered waters and two martinis.

 

The mood was infectious, of high energy and excitement.

 

They sat at a high top table, watching the dancers.  The more experienced ones were throwing each other around, looking impossibly connected and quick, and the band continued to coo into the crowd.

 

Most of the songs were in English, or didn’t have words at all, and Viktor and Yuuri eventually gathered up enough strength to hop back onto the floor.

 

It was a slower song, and they swayed in a simple three-step.  Yuuri and Viktor were watching all the people around them do fancy moves, seeking solace in each other’s gentle touches, in their soft and loving glances.

 

By the end of the night, Yuuri and Viktor were exhausted, dehydrated, and collapsed in a heap into the car.  When the driver got to their house and turned around, he chuckled at his passengers.

 

Yuuri’s legs were slung over Viktor’s lap, and his head was resting against his shoulder.  Viktor was cradling Yuuri sweetly, and the driver gently nudged them awake, making them both blink sleepily.

 

They stumbled inside, tearing off their clothes and going straight for the onsen, soaking their sore muscles in silence.  They never stopped touching, only for a few short moments to get off clothes or climb into the baths.  Yuuri sat into the V of Viktor’s lap, leaning back against his boyfriend.

 

They didn’t need to speak; their voices were hoarse anyway from singing and laughing and yelling on the dance floor.  

 

Eventually Yuuri and Viktor started massaging each other’s sore muscles, and they were making obscene noises.  Yuuri was immensely glad that it was so late and that there were no guests out in the baths at this time.

 

When they were done, they wandered over to bed in their robes, collapsing together, Makkachin squirming so that she was laying over both their legs, tangled together under the covers.

 

They slept like babies that night.

  


***

  


When Yuuri woke up, he caught sight of Viktor, who was staring at him.

 

Smiling happily, Yuuri whispered, “What are you doing?”

 

“Watching you sleep.  You’re like a little angel,” Viktor admitted, brushing Yuuri’s hair back with his thin fingers.  “I could do this all day.”

 

“Hmmm, you might.  Last night exhausted me more than our hardest practices.”

 

Viktor chuckled, rolling into Yuuri’s chest and wrapping his arms and legs around his midsection.  “I could spend all day in bed with you.”

 

“You have therapy though, don’t you?”

 

Viktor cursed, nuzzling further into Yuuri.  “No, don’t make me leave.  You’re too warm and cozy.”

 

“Viktor,” Yuuri warned, rubbing his back, “You can always come right back in here with me.”

  


***

  


Dr. Okuma was watching Viktor expectantly, waiting for him to begin.

 

“I… I think that I need to talk about some things,” Viktor admitted, and even though it was an obvious statement, Dr. Okuma didn’t laugh at him or point that out.

 

“Go ahead, Viktor.”

 

Viktor struggled to begin, finally settling on, “I got angry at Yuuri, the other day.  I was having a bad day, and my depression had flared up for a little bit, and I couldn’t stop myself from vocalizing my insecurities.”

 

“With all that jargon, you’re starting to sound like a therapist,” Dr. Okuma complemented, and Viktor perked up, pleased.

 

Then, he ventured on to say, “I was upset that Yuuri had such a special bond with his friend Phichit.  I was jealous that Phichit could make Yuuri happy in a way that I couldn’t.”

 

The lavender scents in the room were soothing Viktor in a way that very few things could; only Yuuri and the onsen had that power, usually.

 

Dr. Okuma waited patiently for Viktor to continue.  

 

“I was trying to keep him to myself; it was like if I could have his whole attention, then I would know for sure that he cared about me.”

 

“Hmm.  Does Yuuri make you feel loved in other ways, however?”

 

“Yes,” Viktor conceded.

 

“What does Yuuri do to make you feel loved?”  


Viktor was thoughtful, his chest fluttered with butterflies over their night together.  “He doesn’t do it much, but there’s this look he gives me, where his brown eyes are wide and pure and it makes me feel so loved.”

 

“What else?”

 

“He really listens to me,” Viktor said softly, “He really sees me.  He can see right through my best masks.  He understands what I’m trying to say, a lot of the time, without me having to clarify.”

 

“Okay, so he does these things.  Aren’t they enough?”

 

Viktor sighed, brushing his hand through his hair.  “I want them to be.  We decided to spend more time focusing on our relationship and what it means to us, versus just passively spending time together.  I think that’s going to help.  Last night we had a real date night, and did something that was just ours.  It made me feel so… peaceful.”

 

“It looks like you guys are heading in the right direction.  You both are being careful not to become too codependent, but I think perhaps you were trying so hard to keep that distance that you lost sight of the fact that you two are trying to build a relationship.  There is a balance, Viktor.  You two will find it.  It will be okay.”

 

Touching his hand to his heart, Viktor nodded, thinking of Yuuri’s peaceful sleeping face, thinking of the two of them dancing the night away, exhausted but propelled forward by their own giddiness.

 

“You keep working on that, and checking in with me, and we’ll figure out together if things are too far in one direction or another.  My job is to be a resource for you, Viktor.  Use me.”

  


***

  


When Viktor arrived back home, like he said, Yuuri was waiting in bed, but he had a spread of food laid out over a small folding table.

 

“Oh, good!” Yuuri started fussing with the food, “My mom and I made us sandwiches.  I know it’s a lot of carbs, but after last night  I think we both deserve it…”

 

Viktor brought Yuuri to him, kissing him on the lips passionately, chasing Yuuri’s lips as they pulled away, stunned.

 

“I’ve wanted to do that for two days,” Viktor admitted, watching Yuuri’s face go from shocked to content, going back in for the kiss.

 

They settled onto the bed after that, eating their sandwiches and turning Viktor’s laptop on with a Russian drama with English subtitles.

 

When their food was done, Yuuri snuggled back into Viktor, letting VIktor’s arm come around his shoulders.  “So what did you learn at therapy today?”

 

“Everything is going to be okay,” Viktor mused, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead.  “I believe in us.  I believe we can do this.”

 

Yuuri chuckled.  “I sure hope so.  We have a whole lot of competitions to win, don’t we?”

 

They curled into each other and fell back asleep, sore and content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patience was always the hardest thing to regain. Learning to wait out the pain, to wait out the darkness, to wait out the anxiety, is exhausting. It's frustrating, and horrible, but it's worth it. There's so much to celebrate when you use coping skills and loved ones and win the day. Yuuri was victorious that day.
> 
> Next time: Yuuri attends a JSF conduct conference with Viktor and overhears a troubling conversation on the train
> 
> If you like this, check out my other YOI fics! "Thin Line Between Us" is the most popular right now, but I've also written two prompts from YOI Halloween Week. Check them out if you're in the creepy spooky mood<3


	24. Silver Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor finds a new way to motivate Yuuri. Then, Yuuri and him head to a JSF conference, and come across some very rude strangers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves<3
> 
> As always, you are all too amazing. This fic has hit 4,000 views. I'm so happy that I'm putting out material that you guys enjoy. I'm participating in NaNoWriMo, and am spending a lot of time on my actual novels (cross your fingers for me- I'm trying to get published). My updates for most of my fics will start to become more structured and scarce until I've made more progress on those. This fic is still set to update every Monday, though, so stay tuned!
> 
> Important note: the sex scene in this chapter features some dom/sub play, as well as some of the unfun side-effects. Please read with this lens
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussion of dom/sub play, depression, anxiety, coping skills, as well as explicit sexual content are all featured in this chapter. If this fic starts to make you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Go to Lush, Bath and Body Works, or even just a perfume store and let the smells overwhelm you. The five senses are our greatest allies in the fight against what's storming around in our heads.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

 

Viktor and Yuuri woke up the next morning, and Yuuri cuddled further into Viktor’s chest, mumbling, “No.  I don’t want to get up.”

 

Viktor chuckled, pressing soothing kisses into Yuuri’s hair.  “We have to go to practice, love.”

“I’m already sore,” Yuuri complained, tightening his grip on Viktor.  Honestly, Viktor was having trouble complaining; the closeness of Yuuri was intoxicating.  They were so in sync, right now.

Yuuri finally got up and padded over to get dressed.  Viktor licked his lips at the sight of Yuuri, naked and bent over, feeling himself start to form a plan.

“Hey, Yuuri?”

Yuuri turned around, looking innocent and curious.  Viktor almost melted.

“I have a request for today.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.  “What is it?”

Swallowing, Viktor stuttered out, “Did you, um, want to try that whip today?”

Stunned at first, slowly Yuuri started to turn a little red.  His eyes glazed over, clearly imagining some things, and he swallowed, turning around and stuffing himself into his training outfit abruptly.

“Um, yeah, maybe, we’ll see…”

During practice Viktor was watching Yuuri with careful eyes.

When Yuuri was about to enter into a salchow, Viktor yelled,  “If you don’t hit this quad, then I’ll have to punish you!”

Yuuri almost tumbled onto the ice just from that alone, his whole face heating up.  “Viktor!  You can’t just say…”

“Why not, Yuuri?”

Yuuri skated over determinedly, and Viktor felt himself shrink back unthinkingly as Yuuri approached with a fire in his eyes.

“I’m in charge in the bedroom, remember?  I decide who gets punished,” Yuuri had grabbed Viktor’s jacket and pulled the older man towards him, dark eyes smoldering.  “I might have to punish you at this rate.”

A shiver went down Viktor’s spine as he felt his body respond to Yuuri’s words.  “Yuuri,” he gasped, fingers coming up to touch Yuuri’s face.  “Yuuri, are you trying to dominate again?”

Yuuri growled low in his throat.  “If I make this quad, I get to fuck you.  Do you agree to these terms?”

It was so abrupt that Viktor almost choked.  “Yes.”

Nodding, Yuuri skated off, leaving Viktor feeling a little… warm.

He launched into a perfect quadruple salchow, landing it flawlessly.

“Yuuri, I think we found a great way to motivate you!”

When they got back to Viktor’s room, Yuuri only gave Viktor enough time for the door to close before he was growling in his ear and had him pinned up against the wall.  Yuuri’s tongue started dancing on the back of Viktor’s neck, making him shiver at the chilling sensation of saliva drying.

“Bend over the bed for me.”

Viktor nodded, dazed, going over to the bed and resting his forearms on the comforter.  Yuuri rifled through the bedside drawer, then whispered, “Safe word is still strawberry, correct?”

“Yes,” Viktor muttered breathlessly, feeling his body start to react to the authoritative tone in Yuuri’s voice.

Yuuri tugged Viktor’s practice pants midway down his thighs, hands sliding along the smooth skin there.  Viktor felt a sharp stinging before he realized that Yuuri had bit at his butt cheek.

Without wasting any more time, Viktor felt two fingers press into him, making him whimper.  Yuuri massaged his rim until it loosened, pressing soothing kisses into Viktor’s back.

“You’re impatient,” Viktor commented when a third finger was achingly added, making him hiss.

“What can I say, I want you too badly.  I earned my prize, coach.”  Yuuri’s voice did waver a bit at the end though, calling his bluff, “If you want me to stop, you just have to say the word.”

_No_ , Viktor decided.  He didn’t want Yuuri to stop.  He wanted Yuuri to fuck him so thoroughly that he couldn’t walk for a week.  His body ached and yearned for Yuuri to fill him; it was a very primal and very real part of Viktor.

He fisted his hands as Yuuri continued to roughly but thoroughly prep him, trying to hold himself back from crying out.  Viktor wanted to save the good noises for when Yuuri entered him.

After a few moments, Viktor felt Yuuri pull out of him, taking a moment to slide on the condom, then pressing into him roughly, making Viktor see stars.

Yuuri felt so big like this, and thick and… Yuuri thrust a few times until he was fully seated, clutching Viktor’s hips hard enough to bruise.

The two of them breathed in and out together a few times, until Yuuri started moving again.

Viktor bit into the bed and yelped, barely able to contain his longing; he hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted Yuuri to fuck him, how good it felt to be wanted like this.  It would never be enough.  Viktor decided that Yuuri could keep him like this forever, and he’d never get enough of the rough drag of Yuuri’s cock on the inside of his body.  The feeling made him think of a program; the satisfying heat that pooled in his belly and sang through his veins like a sharp, sensual saxophone solo, and Yuuri panting and gasping above him was an answering violin.

Yuuri’s movements became more heated, and he started slamming into Viktor, growling and gasping, making tears start to pool in Viktor’s eyes, but he loved it.

When Yuuri came, he massaged  Viktor’s back, pressing kisses and licked to his skin there.  Yuuri pulled out and flipped Viktor over, surveying his still-hard cock.

“You want to come, right?” Yuuri asked, still red and gasping from his own orgasm.

“Please,” Viktor’s fingers started to move towards his own cock, but Yuuri shook his head, slapping the hand away.

“I didn’t say you could touch yourself.”

Viktor felt his breath catch at the warning in Yuuri’s eyes, but his body was aching for release…

He waited, impatiently, as Yuuri dug around under the bed and came back up. Yuuri removed the rest of his own clothes as well as Viktor’s clothes, until Viktor was almost sobbing for Yuuri to touch him, whining and bucking and fidgeting.

Yuuri picked up the whip in his one hand.  “I’ve always wanted to be whipped, but the way you look right now, so desperate, I kind of want to punish you for teasing me earlier.”

Viktor gasped as Yuuri ran the leather delicately along Viktor’s chest.  Viktor moved towards the attention, whimpering.

“Please, Yuuri,” Viktor begged, and he wasn’t even sure what he was begging for, anymore.

The sharp sting of the leather across his chest surprised Viktor so much in it’s intensity.  It felt white hot, and he was surprised to find that it was as good as a hand stroking his cock; his arousal jumped at the attention.

The burning area that was hit was covered in gentle kisses suddenly.  Viktor could barely see through the swirling uncertainty; he loved the way that felt, maybe too much…

“You did so good.  Want me to do it again?”

There was only one way to figure it out.  “Yes.”

Yuuri came down again on Viktor, making Viktor buck and scream.  On the third hit, he came, spilling down his front and over the thin red lines criss-crossing his torso.

Licking his lips, Yuuri bent over and started lapping up the spill.  

Tears started to form in Viktor’s eyes.  “Yuuri, I…”

“Shhh, it’s okay.  I’m here.  You did so good, I’m so happy you enjoyed it.”

There was something swirling and dark in Viktor’s head that he couldn’t place.  He felt… alone, and scared.

“Yuuri…”

When Yuuri was finished licking Viktor up, he crawled onto the bed and cradled Viktor to him, pressing kisses into his hair.

“Did you not like it?  Are you okay?  Talk to me…”

Viktor struggled, clinging to Yuuri for dear life, the warmth of his boyfriend starting to melt the fear.  “I did enjoy it.  I liked it a lot. I’m… not sure why I’m feeling like this.  Can you stay with me?”

“Of course,” Yuuri reassured, “We have like two hours until dinner.  We can just lay here, like this.”

Viktor nodded, tears spilling over now.  Yuuri began to sing.

 

***

 

“Sub drop,” Viktor asserted confidently the next day in practice, and Yuuri turned a little pink.

“What?”

“It’s apparently a thing that happens when people who engage in… um, sexual play… get very into it.  Sometimes the submissive feels a drop in mood immediately after sex.”

Yuuri’s face turned redder, but he tried to speak, despite this.  “Viktor, we don’t have to do anything like that again if you aren’t comfortable…”

“I am,” Viktor reassured, taking one of Yuuri’s hands in his own, “I read a little more into it.  Sometimes it happens, especially when you’re already prone to drops in mood, like someone… um, like…” Viktor’s eyes dropped to the floor, as he stuttered out, “me, who has depression.”

Yuuri felt a strange combination of warmth and sadness at Viktor’s admission.  “What can I do, when that happens?”

Viktor’s baby blues gazed at Yuuri lovingly, and he brought Yuuri’s cold fingers to his warm lips, planting a soft kiss there.  “Just stay with me, hold me.  I'll do some more research. You can sing to me, maybe,” Viktor’s tone was mischievous, and Yuuri groaned.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Yuuri admitted feebly, looking away.

“No, I think you humming k-pop is very soothing.  I would love for you to do it again.”

Yuuri sighed, picking up his other hand to caress Viktor’s face.  “Only if you’re comfortable.”

“Always, love.”

 

***

 

Viktor was carefully measuring out ingredients for a cake when Yuuri crashed into the kitchen.

“Viktor, I forgot about something.”

Looking up, Viktor narrowed his eyes, and Hiroko hissed at her son.

“Give me a moment, love,” Viktor said calmly, finishing his measurement and adding the ingredient.  “Excuse me, Mama Katsuki.”

Hiroko nodded, patting Viktor’s hand as he passed.  Yuuri led Viktor into the hall, thrusting a small booklet in his direction.

“This is all in Japanese, Yuuri,” Viktor responded, trying to decipher the characters based off of the limited Japanese he did know.

“The JSF has a conference every summer before competition season starts.  It’s in Kyushu this year, and it’s next weekend.”

Viktor nodded, scanning through the pictures briefly.  “It’s mostly conduct, correct?”

“Yeah.  They hand out gear and other free stuff from sponsors.  They go over the proper decorum on social media and in public.  It’s all formalities for lawyers.”

“Okay. We’ll have to push back our lesson, though.”

Their lesson with the two winners from a few weeks ago was supposed to be then.

Yuuri looked exasperated.  “I feel terrible.”

The older skater brought Yuuri in for an embrace, fingers rubbing soothing circles into his back.  “It’ll be okay, Yuuri.  They’ll understand.”

It still made his mind jump to crazy conclusions; Yuuri couldn’t help but criticize his inability to plan.

His anxiety followed him throughout the rest of the week, and especially in his conversations with Yuuko.

Even she just shrugged.  “It’s a free lesson, Yuuri.  It isn’t the end of the world.  This conference is mandatory.  Just have fun with Viktor in Kyushu, and then come back to us.”

 

***

 

Yuuri was sitting on the train, watching the countryside go by.

“It’s beautiful,” Viktor gushed, taking picture after picture.  Yuuri sighed, pulling out his crocheting and continuing to work on his hat.

They were on their way to a mandatory conference with the JSF.  They hosted the conference every year in Kyushu, going over proper decorum during interviews, legality with press releases, as well as networking parties and fun mixers.

So, as one would expect, Yuuri was extremely nervous at the prospect.  He was expected to make a huge comeback this season, especially with Viktor coming.  On top of that, he had to reschedule a fan meet and greet, which made Yuuri itch with guilt.

In preparation, Yuuri and Viktor had booked separate hotel rooms a few floors away from each other.  They didn’t want anyone suspecting anything at the conference; rumors about what they did in their private life was one thing, but actual proof that they were colluding during an officially sanctioned JSF event might not be seen as… appropriate.

Which didn’t help Yuuri’s anxiety one bit.  His skin was thrumming with nervous energy, fingers working carefully at the yarn.

“This one is for Phichit,” Yuuri said softly to Viktor’s questioning gaze, and Viktor smiled, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead.

Viktor got up to use the restroom, and on his way back, he heard a conversation that made him sit down at the seat he was at to listen in, anger boiling in his belly.

“Oh, he’s probably one of those softies.  You know, the world gets too much and they can’t take it?  The people with ‘social anxiety’.” the woman used air quotes, and Viktor’s hands were shaking.

The fact that the conversation was in English only made him angrier.  That meant that Yuuri might hear it.

“I saw a man kiss him, too.  These queers all have one illness or another anymore, don’t they?  They’re just little drama queens.”

Viktor saw red.  He remained seated until he calmed down more, then rushed back to their seats.

Yuuri’s face was completely slack.

“Oh, Yuuri,” Viktor whispered, sitting across from him.  “What did you hear?”

Blinking, Yuuri didn’t respond past shaking his head.

Viktor had seen Yuuri dissociate before, but never in public like this. Normally he’d cradle him until he came out of it, but that seemed hardly appropriate.  Though Viktor didn’t personally care about holding him on a public train, he knew that Yuuri would, and it definitely wouldn’t help matters.

Viktor settled into the seat next to Yuuri and took his hands in his own, massaging his fingers as they were sure to go numb from clutching the crochet hook so tightly.

Voices continued to drift towards them.

“Maybe he’s just… a little off?  Sometimes a kid is just born weird.  They have all these anxieties and anger issues and they all want to deviate from the norm and be gay or interesting…”

If Viktor wasn’t holding Yuuri’s hands for dear life, he’d already have hopped over the seats.

“Viktor,” Yuuri whimpered imperceptibly, tears forming in his eyes.  “Am I… weird?”

“Come on,” Viktor nudged Yuuri up, and Yuuri stood lamely, losing his balance almost immediately with how overwhelmed he was.

They grabbed their bags and Viktor led Yuuri delicately to another train car, the women who were talking continuing to snipe rude comments behind them.

“I guess that he’s just too sensitive.”

“He shouldn’t be listening into private conversations.”

“If he just sat and read like a normal person then we would have left him alone.”

The words were so outlandish that Viktor struggled to grasp that they were even real.

Once they were two train cars away, Vikor looked around.  No one else was in their car except an older man fast asleep.

Viktor quickly tucked their bags away, sitting Yuuri down and kneeling in front of him.  “Don’t listen to them.  They’re cruel, bored housewives with nothing else better to do…”

“They’re right, though,” Yuuri deadpanned, “I am weird.  I can’t even sit through a train ride without needing to do something so I won’t want to cut.  Who does that?  Weird people.  I’m weird.  They’re right.”

Viktor was sure that if Yuuri wasn’t in need of his attention, that there would be two very broken noses on their old car.

“They’re not right, _solnishko,_ you’re using your coping skills.  You’re doing the right thing.  This is literally what the doctor ordered…”

“But it isn’t normal,” Yuuri snapped, eyes still unfocused and voice misty, “I’m a fucking mess, aren’t I, Viktor?  Here I think I’m getting it together but I’m still just a heaping mess compared to everyone else, aren’t I?”

“Hey,” Viktor stroked Yuuri’s face, but he pulled away, shaking.

“Why are you even still here, Viktor?  You could be with anyone.  Why me?”

Viktor felt himself get a little angry, but concern quickly quelled the feeling.  “You don’t have to ask that, love.  We’ve discussed this many times…”

“I hate this.  I hate how I’ll never be able to ride a train and crochet again.  I hate that I need to crochet right now at all.  I hate that I can’t just wake up one day, without a mental illness, and get to do everything the way other people do.  I hate this so much…”

Yuuri shook, and Viktor sat on the chair next to him and pulled him close, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

“I’m so sorry, love.  I wish I could make all the shitty people in the world go away.”

 

***

 

They did not go to the first day of conferences.  Viktor explained to the officials that Yuuri was having a medical emergency.

The medical emergency was that Yuuri refused to call Kya.

“Yuuri, she gave you this number for you to use.  Call her.”

Yuuri shook his head.  “I don’t want to disturb her with something stupid…”

“You won’t eat, Yuuri, you haven’t left the hotel room since we got here.  You’re clearly upset.  I can help, but only so much.  Kya needs to be let in on this, too.”

After quite a lot of bickering and grumbling, Yuuri was talking to Kya.  Viktor excused himself and went down to the conference floor, standing in the back on lectures about safe sex during competitions.

Forty-five minutes later, his phone buzzed, and it was Yuuri.

_Y: Need a little time in the room.  Kya talked me down.  Will join you for dinner._

_V: Okay.  Text me if you need me <333 _

Viktor sighed, rubbing his temples.  

He officially hated people.

 

***

 

Yuuri was tasked with writing everything that he had been told down onto the small notebook he brought with him.  He looked over the things that Kya had said, reading them over and over.

_People without the proper certification don’t know what you need, just like people who aren’t oncologists can’t tell you how to treat cancer_

_They don’t know your circumstances_

_People without mental illnesses can be ignorant.  What they say is oftentimes uninformed and inaccurate_

_Oftentimes people think that a mental illness is some scandal to unveil instead of a medical condition to recognize and subsequently lend support with_

_You cannot live in a bubble with only those who understand your condition.  You will meet people who will question why you need to crochet, who will question why you need to take space.  You need to remind yourself that this is your doctor-designed treatment plan.  Just like diabetics need insulin, you need coping skills._

_Breathe deeply.  You have people who love you and understand.  They’re the only ones you need to justify yourself to._

Yuuri’s mind was still whirring, but reading them over and over was starting to sink the message in.

He got a text from Viktor a short while later.

 

_V: I have a reservation for six thirty.  Meet me in the lobby so we can get a car._

When they were at the restaurant, Yuuri was nibbling at his dinner tentatively.

 

Viktor’s fingers from Yuuri’s as his hand shook.  “How are you, love?”

 

“Shitty,” Yuuri responded honestly, taking a sour bite of a dish he normally loved.  “Everything tastes like metal right now.  I don’t even know if that’s a symptom, side effect, or if the food is just horribly prepared.”

 

Taking a tentative bite, Viktor shook his head.  “It’s prepared quite well.”

 

“Then it’s me,” Yuuri slumped down his chair, feeling the pressure of not adhering to the standards set by society…

Viktor and him said very little for the rest of dinner.  When Yuuri said goodbye to Viktor, they didn’t even hug or touch; Yuuri just scurried away.

 

Viktor sat up in his room, staring out the balcony, feeling helpless.

 

***

 

Yuuri felt exposed.

He was in his hotel room, alone, but he felt thousands of eyes on him.  

Was there something written on his face?  Was there something others could see, and he couldn’t?  Why was it that others could tell he had issues?  

It’s like someone had stripped him and laid him bare in front of thousands.  Yuuri was curled up in a ball, feeling the anxiety roar and crest in his chest.

_If I just cut myself my mind would quiet…_

_No.  We aren’t even entertaining that possibility, anymore._

_Using coping skills is weak though…_

_No, it’s strength.  It takes a lot to hold onto…_

_Why does it sound like we’re having a conversation…_

Yuuri bellowed, covering his ears and feeling tears threaten to overwhelm him.  He hated this, this back-and-forth, like he was full of little versions of himself fighting over what the right thing to think is.  Yuuri was helpless to stop it.

_I need to get out of here._

 

***

 

Viktor opened Yuuri’s hotel room door tentatively, looking around.  “Love, I wanted to… Yuuri?”

 

The room was empty.  Viktor’s hands shook as he picked up Yuuri’s phone from the bedspread, front screen full of missed texts from none other than Viktor Nikiforov.

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor said again, his voice trembling a little bit, “Yuuri, please, where are you…”

Panic hitched in Viktor’s chest.  He’d never been away with Yuuri, before; he didn’t know if it was typical practice for him to leave his phone lying around a hotel room…

Viktor was trying very, very hard not to overthink this.  Not to assume the worst...

 

It was very hard not to, though.

 

“Yuuri!”  When there was no answer, Viktor ran his fingers shakily through his hair.  “Where are you, _solnishko_ ?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another reminder that this is canon compliant and so Yuuri is 100% fine.
> 
> The feeling of sub drop happens sometimes- it doesn't mean that the sub didn't enjoy or want to engage in the act, but usually the opposite. It usually means that someone was so into it that they felt strange leaving "sub space", both emotionally and biologically. The recognition of traits a submissive usually displays during play, like neediness and surrendering control, can be upsetting after the fact. The drop in endorphin levels also contributes to this feeling. Usually, aftercare for the sub is put in place to avoid this side effect.
> 
> This situation with the people on the train is actually based off of a real situation I came across in my day to day life. I was really pissed that someone was being so cruel. I need my coping skills to deal with day-to-day life, but even with that in mind I still felt so exposed and raw about it.
> 
> Next time: Yuuri and Viktor get through the rest of the conference
> 
> If you like this, check out my other YOI fics! I did some fun Halloween prompts, and have some other multi-chapters. Check them out!


	25. Silver Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri takes some time to slow down and reassess after his terrible night. Viktor can't find Yuuri anywhere, and quickly grows concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves<3
> 
> Long time no see. I'll be posting a decent amount of updates this week because I had a marathon writing weekend. Stay tuned!
> 
> Just another shout out to everyone who comments here. It really does wonders for my morale when you comment. It literally makes my day every time. Also, if you just want to chat about any of my fics, or just fangirl over YOI with me, reach out to me on twitter (painted_lady12) or tumblr (painted-lady12). 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of struggles with depression and anxiety, as well as references to self harm and coping skills. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Find all the blankets and pillows and make a pillow fort with said loved one. Proceed to hide from your problems in the pillow fort. I promise, it's going to at least make you feel all warm and snuggly. It's a great place to watch Netflix or take a nap.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

Yuuri was sipping a decaf iced coffee, staring out over a beautiful view of the ocean.  The water sparkled luxuriously like a particularly rich woman’s neck, strung with light along the water.

 

How is it that the ocean can be exactly the same, but seem so different?  Yuuri’s ocean didn’t look like this, or did it?  Did he just not notice what was right in front of his face the whole time?

 

There was something unbelievably calming about walking around in anonymity.  Yuuri couldn’t check his phone to get updates about social media or whose program is going to “wow us this season”.  Here, sitting on this bench and overlooking the water interlaced with streetlight, he was… 

 

His mind was…

 

Quiet.

 

The awful women from earlier today were just a pinprick in the distance, as tangible as smoke.  Nature had that effect; sometimes fresh air was the best and only medicine needed.

 

It was also nice to people watch those who were wandering below him, giggling and holding hands.  Their shadows stretched around them in the streetlights, huge and menacing but also adorable.  Yuuri imagined lives for these people.  This one works at a big investment bank and hates her job.  This one just quit his job to become a chef.  That one works in construction and loves everything about his life, but his wife is ill.

 

Each person got a story.  Each person was real, and alive, and had their own problems dotting their own horizons and their own chaotic minds to quiet.

 

Yuuri finished his decaf iced coffee and looked up, almost falling back because the night was so full.

 

Stars emblazoned across the sky above, twinkling and sparkling and almost alive in how mesmerizing it was.  Yuuri was completely blown away, gazing up in wonder at the shapes and clusters.  There were just so many; innumerable, and they seemed to be appearing and disappearing as Yuuri’s eyes swept the vast inky darkness for the pinpricks of light.

 

Yuuri wondered, for one fantastical moment, whether the sky would collapse and flood the whole world with stars.

 

This his world was so big, and it was just another tiny pinprick on this giant universe we call home.  All of the people that judged Yuuri today were just tiny pinpricks on someone else’s pinprick in the sky, far, far away.  

 

There was just… so much of it.  So much that goes past the tiny problems of one tiny person.

 

Sometimes, thinking something like that would make Yuuri’s problems seem invalid and small, but right now…

 

They were nothing but dots on the horizon, blips of red in a sea of inky black possibility.

 

Tears started to form in Yuuri’s eyes.  This… this is it.  This is that moment that they talk about in movies and in books; the moment that everything falls into place.  Yuuri was watching the night sky, straining his neck and spinning around slowly in a circle, embracing the fact that all of his anxieties were just… specks of dust on a planet hurtling at ungodly speeds and somehow his frustration and fears just went…

 

His mind went…

 

Quiet.

 

After an eternity Yuuri wiped his eyes, threw out his iced coffee, and started walking back to the hotel.

 

Halfway back, a woman was struggling with her packages on the street, and Yuuri started running towards her, feeling light and airy, a smile painted onto his face like a pretty portrait.

 

Yuuri grabbed for the one package on the ground, holding it out for her.

 

“ _ Oh, thank you.  It’s been such a long night…” _

 

Yuuri nodded, understanding.  “ _ If you live close I can help you carry these.” _

 

The woman was beyond grateful, explaining that her apartment was just around the corner.  They walked, and Yuuri took the time to notice her.  She was young, probably around his age, with bright eyes and sharp make-up and a winning smile.  When she spoke, it was quickfire.  When she laughed, it was the tinkling of bells.

 

This girl was probably the most beautiful one he’d ever seen.

 

Yuuri had always wondered about his sexuality.  He’d had a huge crush on Yuuko growing up, but he thought that it was just him attempting to fit into the “straight” box.  Maybe… 

 

“ _ So, do I get to thank my handsome savior?” _

 

They were standing outside her apartment.  The stars continued to twinkle in the sky above, and Yuuri smiled, holding the door open for her and helping her unload the packages.

 

_ “I’d love to, but my boyfriend will be waiting…” _

 

Making to leave, Yuuri felt a hand on his arm.  “ _ Let me at least make you a cup of tea and listen to your problems.  I haven’t met such an honestly kind person in far too long.  I think you’re a dying breed.” _

 

In all of Yuuri’s years being so singularly focused on his own anxieties and fears, Yuuri wondered how many girls like this he’d passed by, completely oblivious.

 

It was enough to get him to sit down, asking for green tea with honey.

 

They settled on a comfortable couch, and the girl poured out a small amount of tea into her tiny teacup, blowing on it.  “ _ My name is Kaori, by the way.” _

 

_ “Yuuri.” _

 

_ “What has you wandering around the city this late at night?  This place isn’t exactly known for it’s nightlife.” _

 

Sighing, Yuuri swished his tea around, looking into the dregs forming at the bottom.  “ _ I needed to take a walk and clear my head _ .”

 

Nodding, she finished off her tea and set it down, pulling out a sketch pad.  “ _ Do you mind?  I need to keep my hands busy.” _

 

She looked apologetic, but Yuuri shook his head.  “ _ Please, I understand.  I usually crochet.” _

 

_ “Where’s your hook, then?” _ she asked, starting to sketch Yuuri.  Yuuri stood very still, not wanting to mess up her model.  

 

Just like Viktor, Kaori sticks out her tongue when she’s drawing. 

 

Yuuri quickly remembered that he was asked a question, and shook his head to clear it. “ _ I left it at the hotel.  I’m… some people gave me a hard time for it.” _

 

Nodding, she continued her sketching, then sat back and stared at the beginnings of her work thoughtfully, biting her eraser.  “ _ People are cruel, sometimes.” _

 

_ “How do you do it?” _ Yuuri asked, voice a little strained.

 

“ _ Do what?” _ she just looked up at him, her hair falling in loose strands around her face, a slight blush from the tea.  There was something perfect about this moment, and he couldn’t honestly tell you exactly what it was.  Maybe it was the tea, or the company, or maybe it was just the night he was having.

 

“ _ Draw without feeling… weird.  Or left out.” _

 

Kaori was penciling in Yuuri’s glasses, then eyed them warily.  “ _ Can I sketch you with them off?  I want to be able to really capture your eyes.  You have a lovely shade of brown.  Also, could I just get a pic of you in case you have to leave?  I can’t leave something unfinished _ .”

 

Yuuri took off his glasses and posed for the picture, feeling a little upset that she wasn’t responding.  “ _ Well?” _

 

_ “I’ve always felt weird,” _ Kaori said easily, and her cat appeared out from under the couch, curling up next to her legs.  “ _ Everyone has a little weird.  You can either hate it, or embrace it.  If you embrace it, you can own it, make it a part of you.  That’s how I became a manga artist.” _

 

Excited suddenly, Yuuri asked, “ _ Wait, that sounds awesome!” _

 

They talked for a short while about her career, before Yuuri was looking at the door apprehensively, and Kaori pointed with her pencil.  “ _ Do you need to leave?  I think I’ve fulfilled my responsibility as a host.  I didn’t mean to keep you.” _

 

_ “No, no, that’s not it…”  _ Yuuri bit his lip, searching for the words.

 

_ “I’ve… I’ve found this peace, sitting on the hill over there,”  _ Yuuri was completely flabbergasted that he felt comfortable opening up to this complete stranger, but something about her felt… familiar.  “ _ I’m afraid that I’ll lose it.” _

 

It was a tenuous peace; an uncertainty.  It was like a small toy ship afloat on a sea of anxieties.  It was buoyant now, but what about in two minutes?  In two hours?  In two weeks?  Would this peace keep him afloat?

 

“ _ That hill will still be there,”  _ she pointed out, continuing her sketch and adding a background in of the night sky, her pencil dancing across the page and unwavering in her pursuit of the perfect picture.

 

“ _ That… I don’t live in the area.” _

 

Kaori frowned at him.  “ _ I think you were looking to keep the feeling, not the hill.  I’m sure that you could get that feeling in any number of places.  Maybe you just haven’t been looking.” _

 

The whole exchange was… surreal.  Yuuri gave her his number, to text when she finished her drawing.  On her way out, she waved enthusiastically.  

 

“ _ You’re a work of art, Yuuri!  Don’t forget that!” _

 

As Yuuri walked down the street towards his hotel, something stirred in him.  It was a long asleep thing, and it stretched and yawned and tested the waters around it.

 

Trust.  Something Yuuri hadn’t had for himself in a long time, ever since he relapsed.  He trusted himself to make the right judgment call on another person, and he was right.  He trusted Kaori to be kind and not hurt him, and she did.

 

He trusted himself to find peace, even if it is only for a short time.

 

Yuuri held onto it fast, trying to savor the feeling, marinate in it, his anxieties starting to sneak back in and weigh down the feeling.

 

_ I’m sure you could get that feeling in any number of places. _

 

Places like the beach at Hasetsu.  Places like the ice late at night after the Nishigoris have locked up and Yuuri sneaks onto the rink, still as a grave and echoing his skates scratching around him.

 

Places like the space in Viktor’s arms.

 

Yuuri smiled and started running towards the hotel, feeling alive and free and  _ happy _ and he clung to that feeling like his life depended on it.

 

That’s... because it does.

 

When Yuuri returned to his hotel room, he found the place positively trashed.  His bedding was thrown, his phone was gone, his suitcase was torn through.

 

Shaking, Yuuri ran to the landline for the hotel, calling the authorities.  He’d clearly just been robbed.

  
  


***

  
  


“Where are you,  _ solnishko _ ?”

 

Viktor felt the world collapse around him.  He wanted to yell, to run, to do anything to find Yuuri.  His boyfriend, the love of his life.  The same man who had been complaining earlier that day that he needed to crochet in order to not want to hurt himself.

 

The same boyfriend who left his crocheting on his bedside table, abandoned, the golden hook glistening mockingly in the low light of the room.

 

Viktor was a wreck after that.  He tore through every inch of Yuuri’s room, looking for clues to his whereabouts.  The covers were torn off.  He checked Yuuri’s phone, but he didn’t find anything.  

 

“Yuuri, if you hurt yourself I’ll never forgive you!” Viktor cried out angrily, pounding his fist a little too hard onto the wall, making the plaster crack.  Shaking, Viktor ran from the room.

 

Where should he even go?  Should he call some sort of emergency personnel?  How does that even work in Japan, is there a number he needed to have memorized?  Should he call the police, or an ambulance?  Or both?

 

Why hadn’t he asked these questions before?  How had he not thought to ask Yuuri the most basic of questions?  He’d been living with Yuuri for months now and he felt like he was trapped like a little kid who needed their parent to tell them what to do.  

 

If he did get in contact with them, would they understand his desperate, accented English well enough and fast enough to hopefully save Yuuri’s life?

 

Instead of going downstairs first, Viktor went to the rooftop lounge first, moving as if in a dream out into the gorgeous space.

 

There were quite a few people from the conference up here, laughing and drinking and floating around like otherworldly fairies or elves.  They were so separate from Viktor, who was walking around the edge, looking for some token Yuuri might have left behind before he jumped.

 

When he didn’t find anything, Viktor wanted to slap himself.   _ No, Yuuri was never suicidal, he was just self injurious _ .  Jumping off the hotel would do the opposite of fix his problems.  Viktor chastised his stupidity, taking the elevator down to the ground level, heel bouncing in the car and making the whole apparatus shake slightly around him.

 

When Viktor got to the front desk, he almost forgot that he knew a few words of Japanese, and quickly started speaking in some hybrid of English and Japanese, making huge gestures and trying to convey his message.  Three of the people at the front desk were in front of him now, and they were playing a very ironically hilarious game of charades, and Viktor was just so angry becuase he just wanted them to understand, because Yuuri was… so precious to him...and if they didn’t find him…

 

Eventually they figured out the gist of his message, and within ten minutes the authorities were there, talking quickly with the staff and listening to Viktor’s story intently.

 

The one hotel employee who spoke a decent amount of English translated their instructions for Viktor.  “You should wait in your room.  The most likely place he’ll show up is right back here.  The officers promised to circulate Yuuri’s picture and to get back to you if they find anything.”

 

Dazed, Viktor nodded, and soon the employee was accompanying him back up to his room.  The sounds in the world started getting lost in this static, coming from everywhere.  Without much warning, and without fully being aware of the journey, he was standing just inside his own pristine hotel room, clutching his phone in one hand and Yuuri’s phone in the other hand.

 

The pain and fear ripped out of him like a living thing.  He threw the phones onto the carpet, then pounded his fists into the bed, feeling helpless and small and completely…

 

...suddenly, his mind stopped all at once.  All of the emotions that were previously pouring out of him dissolved into the air like steam off of skin at the hot springs.  Viktor curled up in a ball on his bed, feeling so empty…

 

His mind was so…

 

Quiet.

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri was quickly informed on the phone of what had happened.  Their words started flying away from him; tissue paper in the wind as they explained that Viktor had been running around the hotel in a panic, looking for him.

 

After confirming that he was fine and promising to check in with the front desk within the hour, Yuuri went from his room, gently padding down the hall, taking the elevator up a few floors, then walking down yet another hall, standing outside of his door with trepidation.

 

Yuuri knocked gently; there was some shuffling, and the door was pulled open.  Blue eyes filled with tears at the sight of Yuuri; Viktor fell onto his knees, clutching at his boyfriend, and Yuuri would have been mortified but instead he was crying to, fingers running through Viktor’s hair.

 

Eventually Yuuri was able to move him into the room, and laid Viktor down on the bed, stroking his hair lovingly.

 

“I’m so sorry, Viktor.  I didn’t mean to scare you.  I should have left a note…”

 

Viktor continued to sob, not speaking, not even able to articulate just what a horror the last hour of his life had been, desperately trying to find Yuuri and being woefully incapable of doing so.

 

“Viktor, I can’t… I don’t know how to fix this.”

 

The Russian clinged to him tighter, breathing labored and body shaking.

 

There was a buzzing sound around them; or maybe it was the absence of Yuuri’s rapid heartbeat from coming here.  Yuuri’s tears freely fell, sitting in droplets perfectly on the thin strands of silver hair they hit as they were shed.

 

“I… I’m sorry.  I’m sorry that this is loving me.  I’m sorry that whenever I’m missing, you have to assume the worst.  I’m sorry that I relapsed.  I’m sorry that this is who you fell in love with, but… this is me, Viktor.  I’ll always be this way.  I… I can’t change this about myself.  So if loving me is that hard, there’s the door.  The season hasn’t started yet.  You can still go back and coach Yurio.”

 

Viktor didn’t respond for a long time.  They hung in suspended animation, waiting, time ticking by in hours for every second.

 

When Viktor’s sobs quieted to hiccups, he looked up at Yuuri with wide eyes, completely destroyed.  He was still gasping his breath, bottom lip quivering.

 

“You… Yuuri, loving you isn’t...  I…” Viktor gulped, another round of sobs breaking out of him, “Can we just lie here, for a while?”

 

Yuuri leaned back and spooned Viktor, arms holding him together as he pulled himself together.

 

After a short while, Viktor said into the empty air in front of them, “I love you as you are, Yuuri.  Even with the anxiety.  Even with the relapse.  Every facet of you is like a glittering edge of a diamond, and your beauty is measured in how much light you can throw across the room.  Darling, you’re a _kaleidoscope_ of color.”

 

After a few more moments, Viktor whispered, “I’m just so relieved, Yuuri.  I just am so happy that you’re safe…it's as simple as that.”

 

Choking up, Yuuri whispered, "Oh.  Okay."

 

They basked in their shared warmth, unsure of exactly who was comforting who.

  
  


***

  
  


The next day at the conference, Yuuri woke to find that Viktor was already downstairs outside the panels, chatting it up with other English speaking coaches.  They were laughing and talking, and Yuuri walked up tentatively behind him.

 

“Oh, Yuuri!  Everyone here was just saying how excited they are to watch you this season.  They say that you’re the pride of Japan.”

 

One of the other coaches nodded, and Yuuri recognized the coach as a former male singles skater.  “You were in juniors while I was in seniors.  I always had a feeling you were something special.”

 

“Now, if only my Mika would put more work in like you do, Yuuri.  Would you try to be a good influence on her?  This will be her first season in the seniors...”

 

Yuuri was floored.  He’d rarely interacted with other people during these conferences except for other skaters, and even then they’d only discuss topical things.  It was an event to survive, not to enjoy.  Yet, here he was, getting told that he was “something special.”

 

His feelings were buoyed up, and he felt Viktor’s know-it-all side eye like a burn in his temple.

 

Later that evening, when they did a take two on their date night, and Yuuri was gazing lovingly at Viktor with abandon.

 

Viktor, usually the mushy one, was squirming in his seat, blushing.  “Yuuuuri, you’re looking at me like… like…”

 

“Like I love you?” Yuuri finished helpfully, taking a sip of his water and resting his chin on his propped up hand, watching Viktor with awe.

 

At some point, Yuuri realized that Viktor was scared last night because he loved Yuuri.  Yuuri wasn’t exactly sure why it took until last night to put the pieces together, especially with how often Viktor loves to woo him, but it all finally fell into place like a neat puzzle.

 

Viktor ate his bread, eyeing Yuuri with a challenge in his eyes.  “You look like you want to devour me.”

 

“Maybe I do,” Yuuri picked up his own bread, nibbling on it without breaking eye contact.  

 

If possible, Viktor blushed more.  “Yuuuuuri, you can’t just say that!  We haven’t even eaten yet!”

 

Laughing, Yuuri nodded, breaking his stare.  “Alright, fine.  I’ll save the dirty talk for dessert.”

 

“Yuuri!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I was able to show the contrasting meaning of a "quiet mind" for both Yuuri and Viktor. For Yuuri, a quiet mind means peace. For Viktor, a quiet mind leaves room for depression to sneak back in. Sometimes I just like parallels.
> 
> Also, just to clarify, Yuuri didn't magically solve all his problems by looking at the ocean. It just helped him calm down and provided some perspective for his current dilemma.
> 
> Next up: We get to hear some of that dirty talk over dessert. There will 100% be some bad food puns
> 
> If you like this, check out my other YOI fics! "Close Enough To Get Burned" is another doozy in terms of emotions, and "Thin Line Between Us" is my most popular fic. As always, if you like what you see comment and share and kudos so that I know that you guys want me to continue :D


	26. Silver Pillows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor have a steamy make-up after a rough evening before. Then, Yuuri and Viktor take time to themselves for a few hours and do some thinking and reflecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all<333
> 
> Just wanted to say, again and as always, thank you for those of you that comment/interact with me on social media:) You really make writing this so rewarding. I'm honoured that all of you have enjoyed what I've put out so far.
> 
> So next week's update (11/27/17) might be a little delayed because I started a new job and have orientation/Thanksgiving stuff/shadow shifts/etc that might get in the way of me putting out the chapter on time. If this happens, I'll let you know on twitter (painted_lady12) and will try to get the chapter out at my earliest convenience.
> 
> As a reminder to all artists, if anyone would like to make art for any of my fics, I've been offering an exchange: beautiful art for me filling a prompt of their choice. See "Ship Wars!!!" and "What's My Line, Again?". If you have any questions, reach out to me on twitter (painted_lady12) or tumblr (painted-lady12).
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: references to depression, anxiety, self harm, as well as explicit sexual content. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Spend a few hours finger painting with said loved one. It won't make the hurt go away, but hopefully it'll help.
> 
> Finally, don't hate me for the puns. I am who I am
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

“You’re as sweet as sugar.”

 

“Oh…”

 

“Viktor, are you a box of chocolates?  Because I’d like to take your top off.”

 

“Yuuri!” Viktor giggled, almost choking on his mousse.  “Stop!”

 

“Viktor,” Yuuri leaned over the table conspiratorially, beckoning Viktor in.  Viktor was hesitant, but curiosity won out, “Your ass is like a peach.  I could eat peaches for hours.”

 

Gasping, Viktor went the color of the cherry on top of his dessert.  “Are you…?”

 

When the waiter came back with the check, Viktor threw his credit card into the sleeve, foot jiggling as Yuuri stared him down from across the table.

 

Yuuri was licking the spoon from his own dessert slowly, never breaking eye contact with Viktor.

 

When the waitress came back with their check, Viktor hauled Yuuri up by the hands and moved quickly towards the elevator.

 

“Viktor, I hadn’t finished dessert!”

 

When the elevator closed them both in, Viktor pressed Yuuri up against the wall, breathing quick and pupils dilated.  “I’m your dessert.”

 

The words made Yuuri turn to jelly under Viktor, cheeks pinking and eyes widening.  “Okay.”

 

When they got back to their hotel room, Yuuri walked towards the bed, but Viktor grabbed his hand instead, guiding him to the bathroom.  “Trust me on this one.”

 

Yuuri nodded, walking behind Viktor in a daze as Viktor closed the door to their hotel bathroom.  Finally Yuuri had had enough, and pinned Viktor to the door, gently nibbling at his pulse point.  

 

“Strip for me, Viktor.”

 

Taking a few steps back, Yuuri turned the water of the shower on and leaned against the counter, giving Viktor enough space to do what he pleased.

 

The Russian blinked for a few minutes, then bit his lip seductively, running his fingertips up his stomach and down his arm.  Then, as his fingers came back down towards his belly, he lifted gently, only showing a little bit of skin.  Yuuri’s knuckles were quickly whitening on the counter.

 

Viktor ran his fingers over each new inch of exposed skin, working the shirt off slowly.  When his shirt was shed, he took the time to pinch and play with his nipples, making Yuuri moan with the desire to touch him.

 

When Yuuri made to move, Viktor pinned him down with a harsh glare.  “Not until the show’s over, love.”   
  


Growling, Yuuuri contained himself as Viktor turned around, pulling his pants partway down his own thighs and sticking his ass out, making Yuuri hiss.  “Viktor…”

 

“Don’t I look delicious, Yuuri?” Viktor purred, stepping out of his pants and bending practically in half, running his fingertips up his legs as he came back up, glancing seductively at Yuuri over his shoulder.

 

Snapping his finger then, Yuuri whispered hoarsely, “If you were a fruit, you’d be a fineapple.”

 

Viktor stopped his ministrations, laughing and almost hitting his head against the wall.  “You’re so cheesy, Yuuri.”

 

“I’m a Gouda time,” Yuuri agreed, and Viktor shook his head then, going to grab the doorknob. “I can’t stay in here with these bad puns any…”

 

Before Viktor could grab it, though, Yuuri lunged forward and grabbed it himself, holding it firmly closed, eyeing Viktor with a nearly tangible feeling of lust.

 

“Finish the show, Viktor.”

 

Yuuri bracketed Viktor with his arms, but remained extended and didn’t touch Viktor, making him chuckle.  “I’m trapped, Yuuri.”

 

“Get creative.”

 

“Um…” Viktor blushed, his half-hard member bobbing against his briefs, “With your teeth.”

 

Though stunned, Yuuri quickly recovered, getting down on his knees and pressing his palm against Viktor’s growing erection.  “I’m going to make you feel so good, Viktor.”

 

“Vitya,” Viktor begged as Yuuri’s teeth nipped at the elastic. 

 

“Vitya,” Yuuri tested, letting go of the fabric, and Viktor’s dick visibly twitched at the sound.

 

Smiling, Yuuri bit on the elastic again, tugging Viktor’s underwear partway down until his member was released.  Yuuri took it in his hand, guiding it into his own mouth, swirling along the top.  

 

“Yu- Yuuri!” Viktor babbled as Yuuri slid his underwear the rest of the way off, licking until Viktor’s cock was dripping with saliva and then popping off.  Yuuri got up and backed away, quickly disposing of his own clothes.  The hot water was steaming up the room quickly, making both their heads fuzzy with it.

 

They stumbled into the shower, Viktor quickly pressing warm, wet kisses against Yuuri’s skin.  “Give me a minute.”

 

Viktor set to work cleaning himself as best as he could, and Yuuri got bored and got on his knees before Viktor’s cock, nosing it and sucking marks by the base, driving Viktor wild.

 

“Yuuri, I need to concentrate and I can’t… fuck!” Viktor’s knees wobbled and he grabbed the shower wall for support as Yuuri gripped his hips, hard.  

 

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asked calmly, and Viktor nodded, switching sides of the shower and bending himself in half, continuing to use the wall for support, aiming his ass high in the air, the hot water hitting his skin and flickering off of it like glass.  

 

Yuuri pressed forwards, pulling apart Viktor’s cheeks and eyeing the pink pucker.  “May I?”

 

Taking a deep breath, Viktor whispered, “Yuuri, please.”

 

That was all he needed.

 

Yuuri’s tongue darted out, licking at the perineum experimentally and then laying his tongue flat over the rim, moving it back and forth and making Viktor start to tremble, muttering incoherently in some combination of French and Russian and English.

 

Growling with satisfaction that he was giving the desired effect, Yuuri dipped his tongue into the hole, making Viktor practically scream.

 

Smiling against the skin there, he continued a pattern of running his tongue over the perineum, then licking into the hole.  After a little while he tried sucking on it experimentally, and Viktor moaned, “Yuuri fuck me please.”   
  


Yuuri laughed, biting at Viktor’s ass.  “You want it that bad?”

 

“Yes,” Viktor sobbed as Yuuri came away, and Yuuri turned the shower off and toweled them off as quickly as possible, depositing Viktor onto the bed.  Yuuri grabbed for the lube and condoms, as Viktor continued to squirm at the after effects of being eaten out.

 

“That really made you lose it,” Yuuri whispered in awe, opening up the lube and pressing fresh kisses against Viktor’s ass.  He lubed his fingers up accordingly and dove into the loosened muscle.  It took him less time to stretch Viktor than usual, which probably had something to do with the magic his mouth had woven not minutes before.

 

Soon Viktor couldn’t even hold himself up; he collapsed onto the bed, and Yuuri propped his hips up with two silvery pillows so that there was still easy access.  

 

Yuuri started pressing kisses into Viktor’s back.  “This is still okay, right?  You still want this?”   
  


A low moan sounded from Viktor.

 

“I need a yes, Viktor.”

 

“God, yes!  Yes, put it in!  I need you, Yuuri!”

 

If Yuuri wasn’t so completely turned on, he would have been blown away by how much Viktor was begging.

 

Instead, Yuuri slid the condom on and thrust in quickly to Viktor’s tight heat, making Viktor wiggle and press up against the intrusion, making some sound halfway between a moan and a gasp.

 

Yuuri didn’t waste any time.  His dick had been aching for this since Viktor started stripping; he pulled out and pounded in at a punishing pace, making Viktor bite at the sheets and pull them between his fingers, breathing in huffs and shouts.

 

Eventually Yuuri sped up, aiming at a different angle and pistoning his hips, knowing just the right way to send Viktor careening towards an orgasm, and Viktor had gone almost limp at this point, lost to the sensation and overwhelmed with pleasure.

 

Yuuri was losing it, too; his own name was starting to swim out of reach, retreating from his mind and onto the plush floors, sinking between the carpet.

 

When Viktor finished with a spasm and a gasp, he laughed and started pressing back against Yuuri, goading Yuuri to finish as well.  Yuuri came while still inside of Viktor, collapsing onto Viktor’s sweaty back and feeling the overwhelming urge to fall asleep.

 

They cleaned up quickly and came back to Viktor’s bed, curling up close and savoring each other’s company.

 

Until Viktor asked, “Yuuri, why did you leave?”

 

Why did he leave?  That was a loaded question.  Yuuri left because his skin was crawling and the idea of staying in his room felt like hot wax in his stomach and he needed to get some fresh air.  

 

However, his skin was crawling because he wanted to cut so badly that it was consuming every inch of his brain.  Everything he looked at was something he could hurt himself with: the screw sticking out of the one light socket, the sharp edge of the desk, the safety pin that fell out of his luggage.

 

It all just felt like tools towards his own destruction, and he’d looked at each with mesmerized wonder before quickly averting his gaze and trying to talk himself through it.

 

There was something about when he stepped outside, completely lost to his own thoughts, that made his breathing ease up, and the crisp night air shot through Yuuri’s system like a slap.

 

“I needed air.”

 

Viktor’s head was resting on Yuuri’s chest, and his fingers were tracing swirls into his skin.  His pretty silver hair wilted against his forehead with sweat.  “Why didn’t you tell me?  Or take your phone?”

 

It wasn’t something he decided to do as much as it just happened, but he had the opportunity to go back.  However there was something… altogether freeing about being without any connections.

 

“I wanted to be alone.”   
  


“You could have checked in with me.”

 

_ No, I couldn’t have _ .  If Yuuri checked in with Viktor he would have just curled up in Viktor’s lap and cried; or, even worse, Viktor might know where to find him.

 

It was then that Yuuri realized that he had left the hotel with no intention of coming back.

 

Before the night air cut through his thoughts like the sharpest blade, Yuuri had every intention of running away and not looking back.

 

“I won’t do it again.  I’m so sorry that I had you so worried,” Yuuri felt himself get a little choked up, brushing away Viktor’s hair from his forehead.  “I’m sorry that I was so stuck in my own head that I forgot about you.”

 

Sighing, Viktor clutched Yuuri tighter.  “You can’t do that to me again, Yuuri.”

 

“You’re right…”

 

“No,” Viktor came up on all fours and straddled Yuuri, pinning him to the bed with narrowed eyes, “I need you to promise me that you won’t ever leave without saying goodbye.”

 

There were a few moments before Yuuri pieced together that somehow, Viktor knew exactly what Yuuri had been thinking when he left the hotel.  

 

“You wanted to disappear, right?  Not be yourself for a little while?”

 

Yuuri nodded, tears gathering in his eyes.  “I didn’t know what I wanted, but I needed to be anyone but myself.”

 

That admission made Viktor visibly relax, collapsing gently onto Yuuri’s body, holding him close.  “I understand the feeling.  I… when I left Russia to come coach you, I wanted to be anyone but Viktor Nikiforov.”

 

There was the sound of someone nearby their own hotel room door, and Yuuri waited until it was silent again to ask, “Why wouldn’t you want to be Viktor Nikiforov?  You’re a living legend!”   
  


“I was a collection of well written news articles and a bunch of lying, touched-up photographs telling lies.  Russia needed me to be perfect.  They needed a strong man, an attractive role model, a devilish bachelor.  They didn’t want what I had to offer, they wanted what the media was feeding them.”

 

Yuuri tensed, running his fingers up and down Viktor’s spine.  “I’m so sorry, Vitya…”

  
At the name Viktor pressed a kiss against Yuuri’s neck.  “You asked me to just be me.  That… Yuuri, I understand wanting to be someone else for a little while, but promise me that next time, when you hide from the world, you at least won’t be hiding from me.”

 

Yuuri gulped, blinking the sparkling tears from his eyes.  “Of course, Viktor.  I… I promise.”

 

Then Viktor whispered, “and don’t ever apologize for being the way you are.  Don’t ever tell me that you’re sorry that I love you.  It makes my love seem… cheap.  It’s like I gave my love to someone who isn’t taking good care of it, or appreciate its value.”

 

The words stung, and Yuuri felt them swirl around his head like sludge.  “Yeah, okay.”

 

Viktor fell asleep on top of Yuuri, but Yuuri’s mind was trudging along with heavy words, going over their interaction over and over again and wondering where he could have changed something, and what he could have done differently…

 

Eventually Viktor’s even breathing against his chest settled Yuuri down, and he passed out beneath Viktor, warm and at peace in his dreams, at least.

  
  


***

  
  


Viktor and Yuuri had forgotten completely about why they’d elected to get separate rooms in the first place the next morning when they woke up, so Yuuri quickly and discreetly retreated to his own room, still fairly messy from Viktor’s searches the night before.

 

Yuuri took the time to straighten it up, then donned one of his JSF issued tracksuits, heading down to the main lobby for breakfast.

 

His coach was already down there, making exaggerated hand motions and laughing with a few of the other coaches in English.  When Yuuri came over to Viktor, he fought the urge to lean over and peck at Viktor’s temple.

 

“Morning, Yuuri!  Did you sleep well?”

 

Viktor’s eyes were twinkling with mischief, and Yuuri shrugged.  “Well enough.”

 

Knowing that he would start blushing from the covert lie any minute, Yuuri bustled over to the buffet, filling his plate with eggs and fruit and settling in next to a few familiar competitors.

 

They were a few slightly younger female skaters that Yuuri had befriended at a competition a few years ago.  They weren’t close, but they’d been thrown together a decent amount over the years, and familiarity trumps everything.

 

The group quickly caught up with small talk before one of the taller girls, Yoko, leaned over.  “So, Yuuri, what’s it like to be coached by Viktor?  He’s been your idol for years!”

 

_ Like a dream. _

 

Yuuri thought back to Viktor sobbing two nights ago, barely able to hold it together.

 

_ Also a nightmare. _

 

“It’s a lot of pressure.  Mostly I just want to do well enough to deserve him.”

 

Yoko chuckled, waving her hand dismissively.  “You’ll be fine.  I saw that video of you skating his routine.  If you skate half as well at competition you’ll zoom through to the GPF easily.”

 

Though Yuuri didn’t realize that he was waiting for it, the compliment sunk into his bones like melted butter, soothing his nerves instantaneously.  

 

When they departed from the breakfasting area, Yuuri met up with Viktor, and they quickly picked all of the panels that they’d attend that day.  Viktor looked beat, probably from their activities the night before.  

 

Yuuri wanted to squeeze his hand or show him some sign of support, but didn’t want the JSF breathing down their necks.

 

The coaches and athletes all had different panels, and only a few of them were in English, so Viktor tried to get to those.  Yuuri sat in on one about the “dos and donts” of sponsors.

 

As he sat in the lecture, he couldn’t help but go back over what Viktor had said last night.  Which made him struggle to remember what he’d said when he’d returned from his adventure.  What had he told Viktor?  That he was so sorry?  That Viktor deserved better than to be walked away from like this?  Yuuri couldn’t think of the words, and soon the panel ended and he was being ushered out of the room to attend the next panel.

 

By the lunch break, Yuuri looked around for Viktor and couldn’t find him.

 

His phone  _ ding _ ed.  

 

_ V: Hey I’m feeling a little under the weather.  Went back to my room to take a nap.  Don’t leave to comfort me; I’ll be snoring and won’t want to be disturbed. _

 

If Yuuri was panicking before, he was definitely panicking now.

 

His lunch was barely touched, just a few bites of his sandwich and a can of tea.

 

At the next panel, where the JSF was outlining the proper procedure if a skater were to be apprehended by the authorities for any reason, Yuuri’s vision was starting to blur, the world shrinking and the volume on everyone around him turning down…

 

He left the panel halfway through and got halfway up to Viktor’s room before he remembered that Viktor didn’t want him there right now.

 

Instead he went to his own room, pacing for almost an hour before his phone  _ ding _ ed again.

 

This time, it was Kaori.

 

_ K: Hey random stranger!  I finished your piece.  I already photocopied it into digital for my blog, so if you want the original swing by before six when I leave for work. _

 

Jumping at the thought of being anywhere else right now, Yuuri grabbed his phone, took the time to text Viktor that he would be out for a short while meeting a friend, and set off.

  
  


***

  
  


Viktor was so… heavy.

 

It had been so hectic these last few days that his lethargy and irritability had gone almost unnoticed, just below his line of sight.  Going into the panel was too much work; it physically pained him to be with other people smiling and laughing and living.

 

It physically hurt to be... here.

 

Yuuri needed to go to the conference, though.  He’d already missed one day of panels because of the terrible women from the train, and Viktor would never forgive himself if Yuuri got into bad standing with the JSF because he needed someone to hold him while his insides were being gouged out.

 

He didn’t want to be around Yuuri right now.  The very thought of Yuuri walking in and seeing him curled up in the bed, shaking and sobbing, made him groan and curl up even more, wrapping his arms around his middle.

 

Hours later, there was a knock on the door, and Viktor felt a shot of fear through his gut, getting up and looking through the peephole.

 

It was Yuuri, standing and looking very nervous.

 

Viktor took a deep breath and pushed on a smile, opening the door and seeing Yuuri hand over an envelope.

 

“This is where I went the other night.”

 

Confused, Viktor trudged back over to the bed, brain still not quite comprehending what he was hearing.  He gently took a piece of paper out of the envelope and looked at it with wonder, fingers delicately tracing a perfect rendition of his Yuuri.  Viktor looked up.  “What do you mean, this is where you went?”

 

Yuuri moved the picture aside, taking Viktor’s hands in his own.  “I went to just go for a walk, and ended up helping this girl with some packages.  She invited me in for some tea and sketched me while giving me advice.  That’s where I was the other day.  I feel like you need to know…”

 

Shaking his head, Viktor just tugged Yuuri closer, pulling the younger man into his lap.

 

“Can you be here for me, right now?  We’re leaving in the morning, and the panels are over for the day, and… I feel very empty, right now.”

 

It was rare that Viktor would reach out seeking aid when things like this would happen, and Yuuri was struggling to figure out how to respond.

 

He settled on, “what do you need me to do?”

 

“Spoon me.  Tell me that it’ll get better, eventually, make sure I eat tonight and tomorrow morning before the train.”

 

Yuuri nodded, guiding Viktor to lay down in a more accessible position, molding his body against Viktor’s pressing a chaste, dry lipped kiss to a knob on his spine.

 

“I’m right here, Vitya.  I’ve got you.”

  
  


***

  
  


The next evening, when they got to the onsen, Hiroko already had dinner ready, welcoming back Yuuri and Viktor with excitement.

 

“Welcome home, you two!  I’m so happy that my boys are back!”

 

Mari came up and patted Yuuri on the back.  “Welcome home, kid.  I forgot how lonely it gets without you two knuckleheads.”

 

Toshiya went with the happy cheer and quickly went back to aiding customers.

 

Viktor and Yuuri set to work polishing off their plates, and soon were unpacking in their respective rooms.  When Yuuri padded into Viktor’s room, he came up behind him and slid his hands along Viktor’s waist, nuzzling into his neck.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

Viktor sighed, leaning against Yuuri a bit.  “Not 100%, but better than yesterday.  I might be better by tomorrow.”

 

Yuuri froze for a moment.  “I… I need you to promise me the same thing I promised you the other day.”

 

“Hmm?”   
  


“That if you ever go hide from the world, don’t hide from me.”

 

Viktor thought for a  moment.  “I guess it’s only fair.”

 

“Good, because we have our lessons tomorrow.  We can always reschedule…”

 

Viktor shook his head, breaking out of Yuuri’s embrace and standing in front of him.  “That has already been pushed back far too long.  I’m excited to teach some future Grand Prix gold medalists.”

 

The thought of Viktor with a really hot-headed young skater made Yuuri chuckle.  “I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all fabulous and just keep being the best version of yourself. I'm rooting for you<3
> 
> Next Up: Yuuri and Viktor teach skating!
> 
> If you like this fic, check out my other YOI fics! If you like the emotional roller coaster angle, check out one of my newest fics "Close Enough to Get Burned". If you like Phichimetti, check out the fic I made based off a prompt from someone, "Ship Wars!!!".


	27. Silver Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two children show up for Yuuri and Viktor's private lessons. They both learn something, and are generally starstruck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!!!
> 
> Thank you for being patient this last week. I was so busy, but I managed to hammer out two whole chapters. 
> 
> There will be important notes in the end regarding the character Ren/Rin. Please refer to those for clarification. Their story was too sweet, so I had to tell it from their perspective.
> 
> Also, the two chapters this week are polar opposites in terms of emotions. This chapter is sweet and cute and a little sneak peek into a potentially future for our boys, and the next chapter is a black hole of emotion. If you aren't feeling black hole of emotion, please wait until you are ready to take it on. There will also be a mandatory debrief after that chapter, so please please PLEASE read the end notes.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of anxiety and depression. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Go to the bookstore and pick the same book. Read next to each other and just enjoy each other's company. It's an oddly pleasant experience
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

Ren rolled out of bed, his eyes adjusting to the lighting in the room.  Today, on a weekend, twelve-year-old Ren was awakening in the wee hours of the morning for a very special reason.

 

He hopped up and down, squealing a little bit to really let what was happening set in.  He was going to get a lesson from _the_ Yuuri Katsuki!

 

There was an annoyed squeak coming from the cage in his room, and Ren wandered over to his bird, grinning from ear to ear.

 

Ren had been waiting years and years to meet Yuuri.  He had traveled to Hasetsu on numerous occasions to watch the older skater practice; his parents had gone so far as to take him to a festival in Yuuri’s own hometown.

 

Today he would be getting two whole hours of practice with him.

 

The anxiety was creeping in.  As he was tying up his long hair, his mind travelled to many amazing and terrifying possibilities.  What if… what if Yuuri thought he was weird?  What if Yuuri saw what he was capable of and didn’t like him?  What if Yuuri found out that he was… different?

 

Taking a deep breath, Ren gathered his things, packed from the night before in a fit of nerves.  His father was already waiting with breakfast and steaming cups of tea, a tired smile adorning his face.

 

“ _Ready, kiddo?”_

 

The drive was over an hour, but Ren’s parents were incredibly understanding about Ren’s dreams.  They were spending most of their free time driving Ren to private lessons and practices and were trying to find a coach that would take him on for Juniors.  

 

If everything went well today, Ren would have a better idea whether he could really make it in skating.  Yuuri Katsuki was his hero!  If he believed in Ren, then anyone could!

 

Ren’s father patted him on the knee empathetically.  Ren was staring out the window at the blood-bitten sunrise, which was creeping up on the day with an explosion of color against the receding curtain of night.

 

Today would be something special.  He just _knew_ it.

  


***

  


When he arrived at the rink, two people were already standing outside of the doors.

 

“ _Good morning.”_ Ren’s father said cheerily to the other two people waiting.  One was someone Ren had met many times before: Tatsuo.  The person with Tatsuo must be his mother; her dark bun of hair was severely pinned to the top of her head.

 

Tatsuo lived in the area, and though the two skaters had crossed paths many times at Ice Castle, neither of them had shared the ice before. Though Ren was two years older than Tatsuo, the younger boy was bursting with energy.  Even now the younger boy looked like he was vibrating with excitement.

 

Yuuko, one of the rink managers, unlocked the door for them, letting them in. She spun her keys around her finger with a smile.  “The two of them have been here for a little while already.  You can go back now.  The rink is yours for two hours.”

 

Tatsuo bolted immediately, and Ren felt like he missed the cue and also started running, laden down with his bag, before his father grabbed the back of his shirt.

 

_“You can’t skate without skates, kiddo.”_

 

Ren chuckled, heading over to the benches to start lacing his skates up.  Tatsuo came back into the waiting area with his cheeks flared up in embarrassment.  Ren felt a little smug at that, feeling slightly less intimidated by this other skater.

 

The two of them quietly tied up their skates and got ready while their parents chatted idly with Yuuko.

 

When Ren was ready, he stood, taking a steadying breath.

 

_You can’t start until you start._

 

One step forward, then another, and soon Ren was opening the doors to the rink he’d been to hundreds of times.  However, now there was something almost ethereal about it.  The rays of morning sunshine fell in yellow ribbons against the clear surface.  The ice was only slightly marked up, and there were two men skating next to each other, in perfect tandem.

 

Ren was so taken aback and stunned by the beauty, that Tatsuo crashed into him from behind, making him stagger and fall over.

 

A few seconds later, Ren was being helped up, and he looked up to see that the person offering his arm was _the Yuuri Katsuki._

 

Ren was so shocked that he jumped back, stunning the older Japanese man.  The posters didn’t do Yuuri justice; his dark hair was so much softer looking, his face kinder.  Promotional pictures of Yuuri always had his hair slicked back and the roundness of his face softened, but Ren decided that he liked this version of Yuuri better.

 

“You must be Ren and Tatsuo,” Yuuri said in English, likely for the benefit of Viktor Nikiforov, who had skated over to greet them with a wide smile.

 

There were a few moments that Viktor was watching Yuuri with eyes full of… something pure and private.  Ren blushed at the sight, but soon Viktor had pulled himself together.

 

Tatsuo scrambled onto the ice, standing at attention in front of the Russian skater.  “Please teach me how to be a gold medalist!”

 

His voice squeaked but his English was flawless.  Viktor tilted his head in interest at the boy.  “I don’t know if I can make you a gold medalist in one day, but we can certainly work on getting you there.”

 

There were stars in Tatsuo’s eyes as Yuuri gazed at Ren with trepidation.  “Are you alright?”

 

“Yes!” he squeaked, brushing a lock of hair back and hitting his earring.  “Oh, um, I mean yes.  I’m just… you’re Yuuri Katsuki,” Ren said in way of explanation, but Yuuri looked down at the younger boy in amusement, like he was in on some private joke.

 

Ren’s stomach dropped to his toes.  Maybe he knew?  No, he couldn’t know.  No one knows.

 

“I’m really excited to work with you.  Yuuko told me a little bit about your experience.  You seem to be readying to enter the junior level of competition.”

 

Ren nodded like a bobblehead, and Yuuri touched his chin thoughtfully.  “What do you want to work on with me?  I can show you some of my routines from juniors, or we can work on jumps.  I’m not particularly good at those, but I can at least show you the basics.”

 

The older man smiled sheepishly at Ren, and the way the sunrise was lighting up his cheeks made him look like an angel.

 

“Just, um, can I watch you do your On Love: Eros routine?  I… I probably can’t land all the jumps from it but I want to learn the rest.”

 

Blinking, Yuuri smiled.  “That’s a little advanced, don’t you think?”

 

However, Ren wasn’t budging.  His defiant posture revealed that this is the only thing he would accept today.

 

Yuuri’s face softened suddenly, and for just a second Ren was _sure_ that the older skater could see it.

 

The rink was split up between the two of them; Viktor was skating figured with Tatsuo on the other side, working with him on his balance as Yuuri got the music ready for him to do a demonstration of Eros.

 

Viktor was being sharp but positive; he was just as sweet as he was biting in his criticism.  Tatsuo’s face was screwed up in concentration as the two skated around, and there was that… something that Viktor had in his face again as he was watching Yuuri skate over to perform the song.

 

It began, then.

 

The first time Ren had seen On Love: Eros, he had sobbed for hours.  It had taken everything in him to not beg his parents to take him to see Yuuri right then.  They removed him from the Hot Springs on Ice Face-Off with concern, but Ren was inconsolable.

 

At the time, he wasn’t sure why the routine touched him the way it did.  It had torn at him for days, and he’d had quite a few nights that he tossed and turned, the song playing in his head over and over, the way that Yuuri looked so… comfortable with his feminine side.

 

Now, as Yuuri began the routine (with slightly less… *ahem* _eros_ due to it being performed in front of a minor), it hit Ren again like a truck.

 

Tears were silently streaming down his face as Yuuri finished, looking over at the young boy apprehensively.  “I think I can simplify the step sequences and you can mark the jumps for right now!”

 

They got to work.  Ren’s mind was singularly focused.  He watched Yuuri’s body like Yuuri's was a fine-tuned instrument and his was off-key.  

 

It had to be perfect.  It had to… give him that same feeling he had had, while staring at himself in the mirror a few days after that night, his long hair brushed out and one of his sister’s dresses on, feeling… like he was finally _real._

 

One hour into the lesson, Viktor came over with Tatsuo and a huge smile, showing off the toe loop he’d managed to teach Tatsuo how to do properly.  The younger boy was beaming with pride, face red from exertion.

 

Yuuri smiled and clapped, but quickly whispered something to Viktor, who nodded knowingly and brought Tatsuo back to the other side of the rink to show him another jump.

 

By the end of the two hours, Tatsuo had three new jumps learned, and Ren had a simplified and shortened version of Yuuri’s own short program.  

 

Yuuri was patient and quiet.  He kept his comments short and did most of his explaining by showing Ren instead of telling him.  Ren was watching with rapt attention, an itch under his skin feeling like it was finally getting some relief.  With each flourish of his arms, with the twist and shake of his hips, he was transforming on the ice.

 

Viktor and Yuuri brought the two of them to the middle of the rink and brought their parents and Yuuko in to show off what they had learned.  The triplets took pictures and videos, and when it was Ren’s turn to go, he took a deep breath…

 

No, no that wasn’t right.  

 

 _She_ took a deep breath.

 

_I know you don’t believe me dad, but I hope that… I hope that this can show you._

 

She began, the step sequence fiery and real, making her male body underneath her contort and twist to look beautiful and fierce.

 

Yuuri watched her carefully, and though his young skater couldn’t see it, he wiped a few tears from his eyes.

 

_I’ve known my whole life.  Can’t you see it, daddy?  How I feel the most comfortable when I’m feminine- even when I’m skating, even when I’m dressing._

 

_I know it will make competing harder.  I know that it will be a difficult road.  But… I need you to support me if I’m ever going to make it._

 

_See me, daddy.  I’m Rin, your one and only daughter._

 

When the performance ended, Rin’s father stood, holding his hand over his heart with wide eyes.

 

Breathing wildly, Rin knew that she had said what she needed to say.

 

When she reached Yuuri, the man that had seemed so far away, an idol out of reach, was just another human, with a face full of compassion.

 

The skater leaned over and put his hand on Rin’s shoulder.

 

“If there’s any advice I hope you remember from today, it’s to be yourself.  People want to see _you_.  Don’t let anyone make you put up a front or hide who you know you are.”

 

Sniffling, Rin nodded, hugging Yuuri quickly.  The older man stiffened, but his chocolate brown eyes stared down at Rin with something akin to pride.

  


***

  


Tatsuo was gasping on the ice, Viktor Nikiforov watching him with a combination of pity and mirth.  Their lesson had been going on for twenty minutes and Tatsuo was already sure that Viktor Nikiforov was pure, unadulterated evil.

 

“Again,” he said blisteringly short, making Tatsuo growl.

 

“Oh, little one, I’ve got my own kitten back home.  Your claws don’t scare me.”

 

Huffing, Tatsuo went as fast as possible, launching up into the air and crashing onto the ice again, shaking uncontrollably.

 

Viktor skated over to him, head tilted in interest.  “Maybe we can try something else. Your form is poor.  Let’s start with that.”

 

“Hey!” Tatsuo grumbled, but as he hadn’t gotten much training in the sport, it was likely that the older Russian was correct.

 

The two of them went around the ice in dizzying circles, Viktor barking corrections and then showering the young boy with praise when he got it right.

 

Tatsuo very quickly picked up on a few Russian words that his teacher kept accidentally using instead of the English.  There were points that Tatsuo just skated with Viktor fluttering around him like a hummingbird, adjusting his elbows and knees and posture.

 

Then, after Viktor was satisfied with Tatsuo’s form, they went back to the jumps.

 

Tatsuo was ready to blow his top off.  If he knew that he was just going to get taught the things he could learn in any beginner’s class, then he wouldn’t have come out this early…

 

However, when he went up to try his toe loop again, he landed it almost perfectly with only one hand on the ice.

 

Viktor cheered, lifting the tiny boy into the air in excitement, calling over to Ren and Yuuri to show them.

 

On the second try, he landed it perfectly, and Viktor and Yuuri both got excited.  Then, Yuuri sent Viktor away.  

 

Tatsuo saw something on Ren’s face.  The other boy was finding something, or figuring something out.  There was the far-away look of someone deep in thought.

 

With his attention turned back to their private lesson, Viktor started drilling Tatsuo on the entry and landing of the toe loop, and proceeded to instruct him on how to do two more jumps.

 

When he presented his three jumps to his mother, his mother beamed and clapped wildly, making Tatsuo blush.

 

“Not such a big ego when mom is looking, hmm?”

 

Tatsuo grumbled, and Viktor ruffled his hair with affection.  

 

“You have talent.  That’s obvious to me.  I’ve built my whole career based off of seeming as confident as possible, and I have a little secret for you.”

 

Blinking, Tatsuo looked into the blue eyes of the Russian, hoping the answer would be written there.

 

“You’re only as good as the amount of work you put into it.  You have to dedicate yourself to the ice.  Are you willing to do that?  To set your pride aside and work as hard as possible to reach your goal?”

 

“I am.  Thank you, _sensei.”_

 

Viktor gushed then.  “Oh, you are adorable, little angry one!”

 

Viktor lifted Tatsuo up into the air, making him squirm in embarrassment and demand to be put back down.

  


***

  


Viktor and Yuuri were saying goodbye to their students, who both looked like they were exhausted.

 

“You were so dedicated today.  I’m incredibly honored to have worked with you…”

 

“Rin,” the young girl finished confidently, and her father looked a little shaken, but not altogether upset.  

 

“Rin.  I like it.  You’re going to go far.  If you ever need anything, let us know.”

 

Viktor was ruffling Tatsuo’s hair again, and the young boy looked like he was about to bite the Russian.  Yuuri pulled the boy away from Viktor’s grasp, and he huffed, collecting his stuff and saying a begrudging goodbye to the two skaters.

 

When it was just the two of them, alone in the rink, Viktor draped himself onto Yuuri, watching them retreat with interest.  

 

“Do you ever think about it?  Having kids?”

 

Yuuri shrugged.  “Honestly?  I’ve never really given it much thought.”

 

Viktor had.  The twenty-seven year old couldn’t help but feel a bond form between him and Tatsuo today, and it made him long for a day when he could teach his own children all the secrets that the ice has hidden, waiting to be carved out.

 

“I’ve always wanted them,” Viktor said distantly, his mind in other places.  Yuuri pressed a tender kiss to Viktor’s hand.

 

“This is a conversation that we can save for another day.”

 

Viktor tensed, nodding.  “Right, yeah.”

  


***

  


Rin’s hands shook as she stood in the living room in front of her parents in a skirt and blouse, hair braided back.  She had on just a touch of mascara.

 

Her parents had smiles plastered on their faces, support flowing out of them like a stream.

 

When she left the house in the school’s female uniform, her parents watched her go, clutching each other’s hands tightly.

 

“ _The world is a cruel place_ ,” her mother said apprehensively, biting her lip.

 

Rin’s father patted her arm comfortingly.  “ _She’s got us.  We’ll keep her safe_.”

  


***

  


Yuuri swirled his soup thoughtfully.

 

_Children._

 

He couldn’t tell Viktor what he really thought; that Yuuri was terrified of having a child.  Especially with his mental health issues, he was always worried that he would just bring another human into the world to suffer the same fate he is.  

 

Though Yuuri wouldn’t trade his life for anything, it’s a completely different thought to imagine purposefully bringing someone into the world who would very likely be cursed as he was.

 

“ _Honey, are you alright?”_

 

Hiroko surprised her son, who dropped his spoon suddenly.

 

After fetching him a new one, Hiroko sat down across the table from Yuuri, concern written all over her face.  “ _What is it, dear?”_

 

_“Mom, have I… should I even have kids?”_

 

Hiroko looked dumbfounded.  “ _What brought this on, Yuuri?  I always thought when you came out that we wouldn’t have to have this talk.  You didn’t knock Viktor up, did you?”_

 

The two of them chuckled good naturedly as Yuuri shook his head quickly, turning tomato red.

 

“ _No, mom, I just… I was thinking about whether I should ever even have kids.  Viktor mentioned something about it and now I’ve got it stuck in my head.”_

 

The Katsuki matriarch was peering at her son over her glasses thoughtfully.  “ _Viktor shouldn’t be pressuring you.”_

 

 _“He wasn’t, he just brought it up, but it has me thinking…”_ Yuuri took a deep breath, gathering the strength to get this next part out.  “ _What if… you know, with all my issues… I shouldn’t be a father?  I mean, I can barely handle life now without having a breakdown every other day.  How would I handle being a parent, too?  Or worse, what if I pass on my mental illness to them?”_

 

 _“Deep breaths, baby,”_ Hiroko ordered a little harsher than she intended, reaching across the table and giving Yuuri her hands to hold onto to steady himself.  “ _Want to know what I think?”_

 

Yuuri nodded, tears forming in his eyes.

 

“ _I’ve seen you with the triplets.  I’ve seen you with your baby cousins.  You’re excellent with kids and you’ll be an amazing father when that day comes.  Life might be a bit tougher, because you have your struggles, but that’s why you go into it with someone else on your team.  You and whoever you choose to marry will have to build a relationship that makes each other stronger and better, and understands each other.  You can make up for each other’s faults and raise a wonderful child.”_

 

Sniffling, Yuuri wiped his eyes.  “ _You’re the best, mom.”_

  


***

  


Viktor was on the phone with Christophe when the conversation earlier came up.  

 

“Chris, when is it okay to start talking about kids with your significant other?”

 

The Swiss man spluttered, probably having spit his coffee out all over the counter.  “You didn’t, Vitya, did you?!”  


 

“What?” Viktor felt his heartbeat speed up.  “Did I do something wrong?”

 

There was a string of curses in German on the other end that Viktor was grateful that he didn’t understand.  “Sometimes I forget how useless you are at relationships.  You’ve never really been in love like this, before, have you?”

 

Thinking about it, Chris was right.  Viktor never had someone he was so desperate to hold onto.  

 

“Chris, what do I do?”

 

The Swiss skater sighed dramatically on the other end.  “I’m not sure, Vitya.  Yuuri is just so hard to read.”

 

“Have you had that conversation with Henrick?”

 

Chris snorted.  “We’ve been together for three years, Vitya, it’s different.  Sometimes bringing stuff like this up early just makes a lot of unnecessary worrying happen.”

 

Viktor paced for a while after that, trying to figure out whether he should go talk to Yuuri about it, or if he should just pretend like it hadn’t happened when a tentative knock came to his door.

 

It was Yuuri, who looked determined.  “Can I come in?”

 

Shocked, Viktor nodded, and Yuuri brought Viktor to the bed, settling them so that Viktor was holding Yuuri to his chest, leaning back against the headboard.

 

“I… I’d only want one or two,” Yuuri said slowly, and Viktor could see that his face was red.  “But, um, if it were with you, I’d want you to be the father… you know, biologically.  With all my mental health issues…”

 

Tensing, Viktor pressed kisses to the crown of Yuuri’s head.  “I’ve got those too, remember?”

 

“Yeah,” Yuuri argued back, “but you’re also beautiful and taller and stronger than me.  Your overall health is better, too.”

 

Relief was trickling into Viktor’s extremities, relaxing him.

 

_I’m glad I didn’t scare you off, Yuuri._

 

“I’m glad that you think I’m such a good specimen Yuuri.  Maybe you should explore me a little more,” Viktor teased, stroking his fingers down Yuuri’s chest suggestively.  

 

“Seriously, though, Viktor,” Yuuri turned around so that he was looking deep into Viktor’s bright blue eyes.  “I… I don’t want to have my kids, but… you know, one day, in the far future, I wouldn’t mind raising yours.”

 

It went right to Viktor’s heart, squeezing it in just the right ways.  “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends the cute half of this update.
> 
> For Rin, the reason I didn't use she/her pronouns in the beginning was because Rin was still a little uncertain herself. At that point, she still used he/him pronouns personally, and over the course of the lesson found comfort in the thought of referring to herself as Rin. It's really important to respect a person's pronouns, people. It's like a millisecond of extra effort on your part that can have a huge impact on that person's day
> 
> Next up: Viktor and Yuuri run themselves into the ground practicing and learn where their limits are.


	28. Silver Wedding Band

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor push themselves to their limits trying to get ready for competition season.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter, as promised.
> 
> I would like to re-iterate that this chapter is going to be rough. Make sure you're ready for that before you hop in. PLEASE read the debrief at the end!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of anxiety and depression, over-intoxication, self harm, and unhealthy coping. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. With said loved one, go to a place with a lot of people and just let yourself be around others. Sometimes that it is enough. Also, pizza definitely helps. If you have the urge to hurt yourself, call a loved one and emergency services immediately.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

It was a little over one month until competitions started, and Viktor was working Yuuri harder than ever.

 

Most nights they would be so tired that they came back to the onsen and only had enough time to soak away the soreness, eat something, and fall asleep just to repeat the next day.  Viktor and Yuuri were focused on their mission ahead, driving forward with as much as they could.

 

It was at practice when Yuuri fell for the third time on a jump that Viktor realized that Yuuri was exhausted.  

 

Helping him up, Viktor whispered, “Why don’t we go home, love?  We can cuddle and watch movies.  I didn’t realize how hard I’ve been working you…”

 

Yuuri got up.  “I’ve got to get this jump, Viktor.  I need to be able to land the salchow in competition or I’ll never make it to the Grand Prix Series at all, let alone the Final.”

 

Brushing his fingers through his silver hair, Viktor thought through the risk.  He himself had been known to overwork himself in the preseason, but Yakov had always been there to pull him from the ice, kicking and screaming.

 

“Yuuri, competition is still a while away.  We can afford to take the rest of the day off.”

 

If Yuuri heard him, he didn’t respond, because he was skating figures around the rink to gather speed for his jump.

 

Exhausted, Viktor went home without Yuuri.  His heart was heavy, and sometimes he knew that just letting Yuuri skate it out was the right thing to do.

 

It was an exhausting day, but even with that, Viktor felt especially glum.  For a moment he wondered if his depression had come back for a visit, but it didn’t seem that dire yet.

 

Instead, he found himself taking a shower and then getting dressed up nicely to go out and meet Minako for a drink.  They’d done this a few times in the last few weeks, and Viktor had found the dance teacher to be both extremely pleasant company and a tough competitor during drinking games.

 

On this glorious night Viktor walked down the street to the small bar they frequented, the evening air punctuated with dew and sparkling with the reflection of the stars off the sea.

 

When Viktor entered the warm and tiny bar that he and Minako enjoyed, he saw that Minako was already a few drinks in, chatting happily with another patron who was eyeing her with interest.

 

Viktor tenderly plucked the drink out of her hand and drank some, smiling at Minako.  “You’re too sweet for buying me a drink, Minako!”

 

She gawked and laughed, snatching her drink back.  “Viktor, this is a friend from high school.  Genta, this is Viktor Nikiforov.”

 

“Pleasure,” Viktor pulled a stool up right between them, and the bartender handed him his first drink before he even asked.  The man had been taking care of him pretty often, anyway.

 

“Minako was telling me that you train Katsuki Yuuri,” Genta said with interest, the wedding band on his finger glittering in the low lighting.

 

Viktor drew himself up to his full height.  He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to defend Minako so much, as the woman could clearly handle herself, but there was something about the evening and the lights and this feeling in his gut of a distinct  _ wrongness. _

 

“I do train him.  He’s going to be the one to beat this season,” Viktor toasted to that and drank the rest from his cup, dropping some cash onto the bar for a new one.

 

“Viktor is working Yuuri to the bone.  He can barely walk most days,” Minako patted Viktor on the back, but it was clear from her tone that she was implying something.

 

Genta coughed, finishing his own drink off.  The man said good night, and as soon as he was gone Viktor rounded on Minako, sipping his next drink.

 

“What was that all about?”

 

“Catching up, that’s all.  His wife is one of my good friends.  He needed advice.”

 

Oh, so Viktor had read the situation incorrectly.  “Yuuri wouldn’t stop today.  I tried to get him to, but he refused.”

 

“Sound like our little pigheaded bastard.  Let him skate it out.  You’ll know when he figures it out.”

 

Viktor sighed, swirling his drink in deep thought.  “He’s suffering, Minako.  I don’t know what’s been eating him these last few weeks but he’s been practicing almost nonstop.”

 

“Like I said, be patient and give him time.  He’ll come to you when he’s ready to talk about it.”

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri skated his anger and frustration, anxiety boiling in his head, hands shaking.

 

After a certain point he realized that doing jumps would be unwise, and marked them, but kept going over old routines.

 

Then, he found himself doing Stay Close to Me, the music loud enough in his head to quiet the other fears.  His breathing evened out, some, and he realized that it was almost midnight.

 

Yuuri’s favorite time on the ice.

 

Breath catching, Yuuri began Yuri on Ice, continuing to mark the jumps but flowing through the movements, water over smooth pebbles.

 

When that was done, the second Yuuri stepped off the ice all of his worries crashed into him again, making him whimper.

 

_ What if I can’t even qualify?  Then Viktor would have left for nothing.  I’m no good.  He should go back and compete and try to get into the Grand Prix Series people want him more than me.  I won’t ever be able to live up to him.  Will he leave me if I don’t make it past qualifiers?  Will he finally see how truly awful I am? _

 

Yuuri untied his skates, fingers fumbling and vision going in and out, breathing ragged.

 

When his skates were off, he walked out slowly, eyes on the floor to try not to get too dizzy, when he spotted the nail.

 

It must have fallen out of one of the overhead pipes.  Yuuri eyed it and without thinking about it snatched it up, closing his fist hard around it.

 

Clarity shot through him like a knife; the worries were overwritten with pain, and Yuuri sighed, closing his eyes over the lump forming in his throat.

 

His grip tightened, and he sighed in content as he felt a warm trickle over his hand, and suddenly his eyes flew open.

 

Yuuri threw the nail, staring blankly at the puncture in his middle finger, blood running down his fingers in a small stream.

 

Shaking, Yuuri got the first aid kit from the office and bandaged it carefully.  Without letting his mind wander too much, he started walking back towards home, until he got halfway there and realized that…

 

...he had hurt himself.  If he told anyone, they would admit him somewhere.

 

Even if it was just a little cut, there was no telling what they would do.  He was admitted for just getting close to hurting himself last time.  What would they say to Yuuri’s impulsive decision to stab open his own finger with a rusty nail?

 

Is it even a real relapse, though?  It was just a tiny mark, anyway.  No one will think anything of it.  It could be from a blister or a sharp object in a drawer.  No one would be able to tell the difference, anyway.

 

What if they could, though?  Yuuri was a historically terrible liar, anyway.

 

Eventually, confused and a little nauseous, Yuuri let himself into the house, just in time to hear sobbing.

 

He dropped his bag and ran, forgetting all about what had been plaguing him.

 

***

  
  


Earlier that evening, Mari had been watching trashy television.  It had become a habit for her, anymore, to stay up until Yuuri came home.  She was worried about her little brother and how many hours he’d been spending on practice.  It was simply too much, and so every night Mari elected to wait until Yuuri got home before she went to bed.

 

That particular night she was quite literally pinching herself awake, and decided to step out for a cigarette to keep her from passing out on the couch.

 

She took a long drag, watching the occasional evening foot traffic soldier by.  Most of them were stumbling home drunk or were jogging.

 

Mari had started smoking when she was in college.  Her roommate had picked up the habit at fifteen, and Mari had wanted a way to connect with her.  Unlike the roommate, cigarettes stayed in her life after college.

 

Sometimes, with all of Yuuri’s problems, Mari wondered if smoking was her unhealthy coping.  She found herself getting overwhelmed with thoughts sometimes, too, but smoking chills her out.  Mari hoped that that was why Yuuri was spending so much time at the rink; so that he wouldn’t be doing less savory activities with his dark thoughts.

 

She took a long drag on her cigarette, and wondered if she should quit the habit.  If she was going to be on her brother’s ass for his bad coping, the least she could do was try to cope better, herself.

 

It was then that she got a call on her cell phone.  Her heart stopped, hoping that it wasn’t Yuuri calling to tell her that…

 

“Hey Mari, it’s Minako.  I think you should come pick us up.”

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri stepped over Minako, who was sitting against the wall in the hallway outside the bathroom.  She was watching Yuuri sadly, trying to communicate something over the sound of desperate cries of fear and sadness.

 

The door to the bathroom was cracked open, and Mari was brushing Viktor’s hair back over the toilet, whispering soft comforts into his ear.  He was sobbing, and the bathroom had the rancid smell of over-intoxication.

 

Viktor pitched into the toilet, followed with a loud, wet groan.  He was shaking, eyes closed and tears streaming down his face.

 

Mari looked up as Yuuri looked in, shaking her head, face grave.

 

His old dance instructor poked him in the shin, guiding him to sit next to her.  He slid down the wall right where he was, feeling blank.

 

“He was drinking too much and I asked him to stop.  I asked him, Yuuri,” she was also a little drunk but clearly still in control of herself.  “I swear, I don’t know what started it, but he started screaming, Yuuri.  I’m not… I don’t know but he was speaking in Russian so I didn’t know what he was saying.”

 

Nodding, Yuuri saw Minako try to unlock her phone a few times before getting it right.

 

She handed it to him and opened the “recordings”.  There was one that was a half hour long, and Yuuri paled, pressing play.

 

It was agonizing.  Viktor was in so much pain… Yuuri couldn't understand most of it but the emotions were clear.

 

Yuuri felt tears come to his eyes as he went into the bathroom, gently moving Mari so that she was sitting on the floor and he was holding Viktor tightly from behind as he kneeled before the toilet.

 

“Viktor, I’m right here…”

 

His dry sobs started up again, and he grasped onto Yuuri’s hands tightly.  He said Yuuri’s name and a string of Russian, but Yuuri tried to shush him.

 

“You need to speak English, Viktor, I can’t understand…”

 

“It hurts, Yuuri,” Viktor was swaying back and forth, almost rocking himself at this point.

 

Then he bent over, dry heaving, and Yuuri held him tighter as he continued to sob.

 

“Shhh, Viktor I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere…”

  
  


***

  
  


Viktor woke up in a cocoon of towels on the floor.  Immediately Viktor was cold, and his stomach clenched painfully.

 

Oh, oh no, this feeling…

 

He was wiped clean.  It was like he was sliding around on the ice without skates, not able to control where he was going and get traction.  He closed his eyes at the feeling of movement without moving, groaning.

 

Suddenly a hand touched his arm, and Viktor gasped and look up to see Yuuri was there, face full of sadness.

 

“Hey,” Yuuri said weakly, squeezing Viktor’s arm lovingly.

 

Viktor moved to sit up, but a wave of nausea knocked him back down.  Groaning again, Viktor curled in on himself, realizing that he was wearing only boxers and was asleep on the bathroom floor.

 

“How… what happened?  I remember…”

 

What did he remember?  He remembered drinking.  He remembered feeling empty and dark and he was hoping that the alcohol would make the dark and empty go away.  Instead it just made him worse.

 

Oh, right, he drank too much.  At some point Viktor had gotten home and Yuuri had showed up to take care of him.

 

“At least I got you to not practice for a day,” Viktor said, coughing and wincing at the pain in his throat.  

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Yuuri whispered, and Viktor saw that his boyfriend was hurting.

 

“What happened, Yuuri?  You haven’t been talking to me.  Is everything okay?”

 

The laughter that bubbled up from Yuuri’s throat was forced.  “You’re asking me this as you sit on the floor, having spent the night puking because you drank too much?”

 

“Yuuri, I…”

 

The door opened, and a particularly exhausted Mari threw in a few towels and some water bottles and saltines.  “See if you can get him to eat something if he’s up.”

 

She then slammed the door unceremoniously loudly, making Viktor’s head throb painfully.

 

“Ow.”

 

They were quiet for a while as Viktor tried to get some water into himself.  His body felt like he’d been beaten up and then injected with three different versions of the flu.  He was hot and also so freezing cold.  He was in a cold sweat.

 

After they got a little water in him, Yuuri carefully helped Viktor stand and brought him to his bed.  Yuuri placed the garbage can right next to Viktor’s bed, then helped him under the covers, pushing Viktor’s damp hair out of his eyes.

 

Viktor’s embarrassment was growing by the second.  “I’m sorry, Yuuri.”

 

“Is this what it feels like?” Yuuri whispered almost imperceptibly.

 

Eyes widening, Viktor said, “Oh, no, Yuuri…”

 

“I need to take a walk.  Sleep, okay?  You need to rest today.”

 

Viktor nodded, and he felt Makkachin nuzzle her way in behind Viktor, nosing him in reassurance as Yuuri stepped out of the room.

  
  


***

  
  


When Yuuri was outside of the house, he dialed a number and waited.

 

“Hey pork cutlet bowl.”

 

Yuuri smiled a little at that, the chilly morning sun hitting his face, “Hey, Yurio.  Can you send me Yakov’s number?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I saw the text you sent me.  What’s all this about?”

 

“It’s just… personal.  I’m sorry, Yurio.”

 

There was a pause, and Yuri was silent, until...  “How’s the old man?”

 

His breath caught at that, tears forming in his eyes.  “He’s great, Yurio.  Please send me that number.”

  
  


***

  
  


Later in the afternoon, Yuuri walked into Viktor’s bedroom, where he was watching trashy Russian soaps and moping.  He had managed to shower, but couldn’t keep much down save some warm broth and water.

 

When he saw Yuuri enter, he smiled weakly up at his boyfriend.  “You look particularly dashing today, Yuuri.”

 

Without smiling, Yuuri perched himself on the bed, sitting up straight and scrolling through something on his phone.

 

“I’m going to read you something, okay?”

 

Viktor’s eyes narrowed.  “Yuuri, what’s going on?”

 

“ _ Minako he won’t let me near him I can’t live without him.  No, I can.  I just don’t want to.  What if he hurts me like... he did.  Oh, god, why didn’t I tell anyone?  Please forgive me, please.  Minako I need Yuuri where is he what if he hurts himself oh no he can’t leave me please…” _

 

Viktor was ashen as a ghost.  “Yuuri, you don’t…”

 

“ _ My mother won’t even speak to me.  She hates me.  Why does she hate me so much?  I tried.  She has a new son now.  I’m sure that he gives her plenty of time and makes sure she doesn’t try to kill herself.  How could I let that happen?  Minako please don’t hate me you’re my friend and...  Minako please don’t tell Yuuri that he hurt me.  I haven’t told Yuuri and he’ll be upset.  What if he leaves me when I find out?” _

 

There were silent tears tracking down Yuuri’s face as he continued in a sticky voice, “ _ Why does it hurt so much why please don’t let him find out please don’t let him leave me what if he leaves me…” _

 

Yuuri gulped, dropping his phone onto the blankets, looking up at Viktor, who was starting to look green again.

 

“What was all of that about, Viktor?”

 

There was a ringing in Viktor’s ears, and he just rolled over and remained silent.

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri was laughing and talking with his mother, trying to appear fine, but while she wasn’t looking he took a knife from the cabinet and slipped out of the room.

  
  


***

  
  


Mari hadn’t seen Yuuri in a few hours.  She checked in Viktor’s room, but the Russian was in a fitful sleep.

 

She wandered around trying to find her brother, until she ran into her mother, who looked troubled.

 

“I did the knife count, Mari, and one is missing.”

 

Mari had never run so fast in her life.  She went to Yuuri’s room, to every living space before she saw that the bathroom closest to Yuuri’s room was shut.

 

She banged on the door loudly, trying for the knob.  “Yuuri, are you in there?”

 

No answer.

 

“Yuuri!?”

 

Hiroko ran up with the keys, tears in her eyes as she unlocked the door and stumbled inside.

 

The shower was running, fogging up the mirror and making it difficult to see.  Yuuri was sitting in the shower in his boxers, on the ground, and the knife clattered to the floor.

 

“It’s too late,” Yuuri whispered, blood tracking from his left knee.

 

Hiroko ran to call for help, and almost ran directly into Viktor, who was limping out of his room after hearing all the yelling.

 

When he got to the entryway of the door, Viktor sunk to his knees.

 

A few seconds later, Mari was back with a first aid kit and walked into the room very slowly.  Yuuri was staring blankly at the wall, arms at rest on his sides, and showed no sign of attempting to get the knife back.  Mari picked it up and handed it to Viktor, setting to work assessing the damage done.

 

Viktor was in shock, staring at his reflection back in the stainless steel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry my loves. 
> 
> Unfortunately, as many of us know, recovery isn't linear. There is nothing as discouraging as a relapse, but when these things happen we need to remember that we are a human and make mistakes. Relapses are part of recovery. All you can do is keep moving forward. 
> 
> Yuuri will get through this. We will get through this.
> 
> Also, in terms of what was happening with Viktor, there will be a discussion at a later time about those topics. The focus will just be shifted for a short bit.
> 
> Next time: our two boys deal with the after effects of their decisions.


	29. Silver Spotlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri deals with the fallout from relapsing again. Viktor struggles to hold himself together in the aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves! 
> 
> So as far as planning goes, the first part of this story is almost done. Once we shift into competition season, we will move onto what I've decided to call "phase two". The format of this, whether I will make this fic a series or whether I'll just continue posting in "SDP" will be decided at a later date.
> 
> I'm so sorry for last week, but I think that it's so important to recognize that healing isn't simple or linear or fair. It's harsh and sometimes feels like things are actually worse or that you haven't made any progress. It's so important to recognize the many facets of healing, which sometimes includes a relapse.
> 
> As always, if you have questions/concerns, you can reach me at my twitter (painted_lady12) or my tumblr (painted-lady12).
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of anxiety and depression, self harm, unhealthy coping, tough therapy sessions, and the struggles of being in a support system. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, please reach out to a loved one. Make yourself a cup of tea, and play some of your favorite songs. Bask in the warmth of just being alive, and here, and able to enjoy things like tea and music. Sometimes the game is "fake it 'til you make it"
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

Everything sounded muffled, like Viktor was hearing from behind a solid barrier of pillows.  Mari was saying something to Yuuri, yelling something…

 

“Viktor, get the knife out of here,” Mari’s voice finally shattered the odd sensation, and Viktor just stared at her for a few moments.  The shower’s steam had made the room extremely warm, and he was starting to get light headed.  All at once, though, he snapped to attention.

 

Viktor slowly got up from the floor and walked the knife back to the kitchen.  His steps echoed as he went, and Hiroko was talking on the phone frantically, trying to keep her voice down for the sake of the guests.  It still echoed down the hallway, following Viktor to the kitchen.

 

After dropping the knife in the sink, he returned down the hall, where Mari had finally turned off the shower and was getting alcohol wipes.

 

Mari was kneeling in the water, pants soaked through at the knee.  She was trying to touch Yuuri, but he kept leaning away, his wet hair sticking to his face and obscuring his expression

 

“Don’t,” Yuuri breathed, but Mari already pressed against the shallow lines.  When Viktor came into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet, Yuuri looked up through the dark tresses with wide eyes.

 

The younger skater said nothing, but was pleading with his stare.

 

Viktor was so lost.  When did this happen?  How could this happen?  Yuuri had been doing so well, except…

 

...except, with all the practicing, their time together was mostly working at the rink.  Yuuri hadn’t crocheted anything in awhile.  Viktor couldn’t remember the last time he saw Yuuri do yoga, and they definitely hadn’t had time to go swing dancing.

 

Yuuri hissed as Mari pressed harder against the skin, and finished cleaning it.  Then she took some gauze and started pressing against the wounds.  They weren’t even close to life threatening, but they were bleeding profusely.

 

The three of them sat silently in the bathroom for a long time until Mari finally spoke.

 

“What happened, Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri shook his head and refused to look at either of them.  Mari sighed, wrapping some medical tape around the gauze to create a bandage until it could get checked out.  

 

“We’re taking you to the hospital, kid…”

 

“No, we’re not.”

 

The three of them looked up and Hiroko was there, holding her cellphone and looking grave.  

 

Mari’s wide eyes blinked back.  “Mama…”

 

“I was just on the phone with Kya.  Apparently her and Dr. Yamara had discussed what they would do if this happened, and their decision is to keep you in the home.”

 

“Screw that!” Mari hissed, but Hiroko wouldn’t budge.

 

“They want it to be up to him, whether he hurts himself again or not.  None of his current cuts will require stitches.”

 

However, Mari was unconvinced.  “Yeah, but he should…”

 

Hiroko shook her head, expression clouding over with sadness.  “At this point it’s sink or swim.  He never endangers his own life when he cuts, so they’re leaving it up to him.  As long as his behavior doesn’t escalate further, he should stay here.”

 

Viktor felt a little dizzy, and he wasn’t sure whether it was because he felt like shit or because Yuuri wasn’t meeting his mother’s eyes right now.

 

“Can you guys leave me alone, please,” Yuuri whispered, water droplets blinked from his eyelashes, almost like tears.

 

“Like hell I…”

 

Hiroko touched Mari’s shoulder gently.  “There’s nothing he can hurt himself with in here.  Let him be.”

 

The older sister was breathing deeply, looking stricken.  Then she marched from the room, anger visibly pouring out of her.

 

When it was just the two of them, Viktor asked, “Would you like me to leave, too?”

 

“No.”

 

Silence followed for a few moments.  Viktor wasn’t sure what he should be doing, exactly.  Should he be comforting Yuuri?  Should he be yelling at Yuuri, for relapsing?  Should he be trying to distract Yuuri from the relapse?

 

It was very sudden, but Yuuri broke down crying, heaving gasping sobs.  Viktor ignored the water in the tub and kneeled down with him, grasping the younger man to his chest tightly.  Yuuri bellowed and screamed and sobbed for an unknown amount of time before he became eerily quiet.

 

“I fucked up.”

 

Sighing, Viktor pulled back and tucked a dark lock of dripping hair from Yuuri’s face.  “I fucked up last night.  We’re two peas in a pod.”

 

Shaking his head, Yuuri hugged himself.  “Kya is going to kill me.”

 

“Yeah, probably,” Viktor admitted, before helping Yuuri up.

 

They went to Yuuri’s room, where he got dressed, wincing when he bent his knee and probably pulled at the cuts.  “Well, I didn’t really think that one through.”

 

“No, you didn’t,” Viktor agreed solemnly.

 

They sat on the bed for a while.  Yuuri was silent as he huddled into Viktor, eyes drifting in and out of focus.  Despite the feeling of impending doom, it was bright and sunny outside, and the rays of sunshine fell on them, casting them in soft tones and making their somber expressions look sorely out of place.

 

After a while, there was a knock on the door, and Hiroko poked her head in.  “Kya is waiting for you in the sitting room, Yuuri.”

 

Viktor took his hand.  “It’s going to be okay.”

 

Nodding, Yuuri squeezed it back affectionately and walked towards the sitting room.

 

Kya was tapping her pen on the arm of the couch when Yuuri came in with Viktor.  She was wearing a sundress and light sweater, dark hair cascading in thick layers over her shoulders.  Yuuri had a sudden urge to apologize for interrupting whatever she had been enjoying that day.  He held his tongue, though.  Even if he wanted to say it, Kya would get on his case more if he apologized.

 

“You can step out, Viktor.  I’ve got it from here.”

 

Heart clenching painfully, Viktor pressed a soft kiss to his  boyfriend’s temple.  “I’ll be in my room when you need me.”0

 

That left Yuuri and Kya alone.

 

Yuuri started clenching and unclenching his fists nervously.  “Are you mad?”

 

Kya motioned for the chair across from her, and Yuuri took it, apprehension mounting in his chest.

 

“I’m never mad at you, Yuuri,” she said honestly, and her face was open enough that Yuuri could tell that she wasn’t lying.  “I’m just confused.  You were doing so well.”

 

“I was,” Yuuri agreed, bringing his knees up to his chest.  “Then my training took up so much of my time, and… I kept thinking that if I just worked a little harder, and got my routines down, that it would fix everything.  I just had to make it to competition season.”

 

Biting her lip, Kya jotted down some notes.  “So you weren’t taking care of yourself properly?  How come you didn’t mention it during a session with me?”

 

_ I know my own warning signs. _

 

“At the time, I thought I was being overdramatic.”

 

There was a soft chuckle from her.  “I will never in a million years think that you’re being too overdramatic, Yuuri.”

 

“I hurt myself.”

 

There was quiet for a few moments after Yuuri whispered that, like it still hadn’t hit him.

 

“Okay, I want to get to how that happened in a little bit, but there’s something very important that we need to emphasize first.”

 

Yuuri looked up at her, the swirling dread in his chest roaring.  “What?”

 

“This isn’t that big of a deal.”

 

Eyes widening, Yuuri stood up, aghast.  “What do you mean it isn’t that big of a deal?  I cut myself!  I relapsed  _ again! _  That’s a very big deal!”

 

Kya waited until Yuuri was seated again.  “Okay, yes, it isn’t a good thing, but Yuuri you need to remember not to beat yourself up over this.  Even if you relapsed, the only way you’ll get better is if you can process it and move forward.  You can’t guilt yourself over it, otherwise the addiction wins.”

 

Huffing, Yuuri slumped in his seat, anger boiling in his belly.

 

“I can’t believe… you just want me to go on with my life and pretend that everything is okay?!”

 

Kya smiled.  “More or less, yes.”

 

“But that… that’s wrong!  I need to be punished or I need to make up for it somehow…”

 

“You do?” Kya asked, frowning a little bit and jotting down some notes.  “Who says?”

 

Yuuri was completely furious now.  “I say!”

 

“Okay, well then just say that you don’t have to.  It’s simple, really.  There is no rulebook that says that you need to atone for this.  Are you planning on hurting yourself again?”

 

Biting his lip, Yuuri searched himself.  The urge was gone for now, but he wasn’t sure if it would stay that way.  “I… no, not right now.”

 

“So that means that you already know that you made a bad decision this afternoon, right?  You’re not sitting there saying that you’re planning on cutting the minute I leave, right?”

 

“I… no,” Yuuri’s hands clenched and unclenched with emotions surging through him.  “I… Kya I fucked up!  We can’t just… say it’s okay!”

 

“Why?”

 

Yuuri was at a loss.  He knew, down to his bones, that he was right, but there was something about what she was saying that made just a little bit of sense.

 

_ Isn’t… isn’t it the guilt of cutting that usually spirals my emotions downward to make me want to cut again?  If I don’t let myself feel guilty about it, then… _

 

Deflating a little bit, Yuuri whispered, “I’ll… try.”

 

“I know that you already have my cell number, but there’s a reason that I have an emergency cell phone for patients.  It’s specifically for those moments when you want to hurt yourself and need someone to talk you down.  Don’t hesitate to use it, please.”

 

There was silence for a few moments before Kya prompted, “So, let’s start from the beginning.”

 

“I’ve been practicing a lot these last few weeks.”

 

Kya nodded.  “Okay, that makes sense.  You’re very dedicated to your sport.”

 

Yuuri shook his head.  “It’s more than that.  I need to prove that I’m worthy of Viktor being my coach.  That him taking off the season to coach me was worth it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Otherwise I would have stolen him and not been worth his time.”

 

Tilting her head to the side, Kya asked, “What’s so wrong with that?  Viktor and you are happy together, right?”

 

Thinking past the last few weeks, Yuuri knew this was true.  He’d been pushing Viktor away recently because of his own growing insecurities, but past that their relationship had been solid.  

 

“We are.”

 

“So, are you wasting his time, even if you don’t qualify for the Grand Prix?”

 

“I… I don’t know.”

 

“Okay, we can come back to that.  Let’s talk about today.  What was so triggering today?”

 

Yuuri remembered it like a fever dream.  There was no stopping himself when the urge hit; it was like his fate had already been decided.  “I think this has been building for a while.”

 

“Expand on that, please.”

 

Yuuri closed his eyes.  

 

“I think cutting today was inevitable given how much I've neglected taking care of myself.  I think that… I need to schedule in more breaks and time to work on my coping skills.  Then I can relax, and work through why I let it get this far,” Yuuri felt his stomach tighten involuntarily at the thought.

 

There was a watery smile on Kya’s face, and she sniffled, pride glittering in her eyes. “Sounds like a good plan.  Coping skills are there so that you don’t get to this point. I think that the most important thing here is figuring out what got you to the point that cutting seemed like the only option.  Get yourself into a good place, keep yourself in that good place for a few days, and then we can start working through how to make sure you don’t ever get to that point again.”

 

It seemed… doable?  Yuuri nodded hesitantly.

 

Satisfied, Kya glanced down at her notes.  “Okay.  So let's get back to needing to be worth Viktor’s time.  How often do you assume something negative when usually he either feels positive or neutral?”

 

Biting his lip, Yuuri nodded and thought back.  Viktor… deserved for Yuuri to let him decide what he feels for himself, and not assume the worst. Viktor has given him no reason to doubt him.

 

Except...

 

“He drank a lot last night and was yelling in Russian.  A lot of it I don't understand, but I sent it to someone to get it translated.  He thinks that I'm going to leave him, or hurt myself...”

 

Kya jotted some more things down and asked, “I don't blame him, but I would ask sober Viktor what he thinks.”

 

Yuuri sighed, knowing that she was right.

 

“In that same vein, what happened to our safety plan, Yuuri?”

 

The man visibly winced at the words.

 

Right. If Yuuri has an urge, he's supposed to find a safe person and stick to them like glue.  But… Viktor had been so messed up, and Yuuri was so confused by what had happened the night before.  Mari and Hiroko were both busy with day-to-day workings of the onsen.  

 

Yuuri had effectively isolated himself instead of seeking help.

 

“I didn't think anyone could help me,” Yuuri whispered, hugging himself.

 

“Bullshit.”

 

Yuuri winced.

 

Kya was on a roll, though.  “Everyone in your life wants to help, Yuuri.  Here's what we’re going to do: write a list of people who you can reach out to when you want to hurt yourself.  Then, I want you to go ask them if they would be willing to help you in a crisis.  You’ll be surprised what they say.”

 

Nodding, Yuuri felt small, like he was stupid for thinking that he was all alone.

 

“Don't beat yourself up, Yuuri.  We’re not letting the anxiety win any more today, remember?”

 

Forcing himself to calm down, Yuuri closed his eyes and breathed slowly, forcing his racing heartbeat to slow down.  

 

“Fuck you, anxiety,” Yuuri muttered without thinking, then blushed.  Both Yuuri and Kya started laughing, and Yuuri repeated, “FUCK YOU ANXIETY!!!”

 

It was then that he remembered that even with all this positive thinking, he had, in fact, relapsed again.  

 

Tears formed in his eyes again as he growled with finality, “fuck you, anxiety.”

  
  


***

  
  


Viktor felt like death.  He couldn't keep anything down, he was shivering in summertime, and his boyfriend was going on hour two of his post-relapse debrief with his therapist.

 

Kya had left Yuuri alone for a short while to complete some forms, while Kya met with a very pale Viktor and equally as pale Hiroko.

 

Mari refused to be a part of the plan, insisting that Yuuri would only hurt himself again, and stormed out.  She still insisted that he should be going to the hospital.

 

“I'm having him sign a safety contract.  It basically states that until our next session in three days he promises to not hurt himself.  I feel that he's safe enough to stay home based on how he's doing. This might be odd for you to hear, but I think this was a good thing for him.  A wake-up call of sorts, to how he hasn't been treating himself well enough.  I don't ever endorse cutting, but sometimes we need to slide backwards before we can see our path ahead clearly.”

 

Hiroko had reached for Viktor’s hand, and the Russian clutched it, surprised to find her grip to be desperate.

 

“He should be around others right now, but don't treat him much differently than you do any other day.  We aren't shaming or guilting him, here.  The plan is to let him continue on like normal.”

 

Viktor swallowed the lump in his throat.  “That seems…”

 

“Think of it this way: Yuuri is already going to guilt and shame himself.  We don't need to do that for him, he's got it covered.  Just be there.  Ask him what he needs.  Let him practice and encourage him to crochet and go on runs and have fun.”

 

Kya was resolute, but Hiroko and Viktor looked unsure. 

 

Hiroko was worrying a rag in the hand that wasn't crushing Viktor’s.  “We trust your judgment.  If he hurts himself again before next session, what should we do?”  

 

“The safety contract clearly states that if he hurts himself again in the next thirty days that he will be admitted into the hospital immediately.”

 

Thirty days didn't seem like a long time, all things considered.  

  
  


*** 

  
  


When Kya left, Yuuri retreated into Viktor’s room to watch stupid Russian soaps with the sick man.  They didn't touch, partially because of Yuuri’s tension and partially due to Viktor’s chills. 

 

When Yuuri fell asleep next to Viktor, the Russian sat up and ghosted his fingers over the bandage on Yuuri’s leg.

 

He hadn't counted how many thin red lines decorated his lover this time.  He wondered if Yuuri even knew.

 

Viktor laid down next to Yuuri and watched him breathe.  His glasses lay folded on the bedside table, and the bridge of his nose was ever so slightly red where they had sat.  His eyelashes fluttered, even with his eyes closed, as if in his dream he was blinking in wonder at something magical.

 

While sleeping, Yuuri always looked soft and warm.  His cheeks blushed slightly, and his soft hair tickled his face.

 

Viktor couldn't imagine this Yuuri carving himself up with a knife.  He couldn't reconcile this Yuuri, sleeping like an angel, to the Yuuri that had sobbed in the shower stall, blood soaking through the gauze on his knee.

 

They were the same person, Viktor reminded himself.  This Yuuri was hurting earlier and couldn't reach out.  In fact, this Yuuri had been hurting for weeks and couldn't reach out.

 

Looking at the sleeping form of his boyfriend, Viktor made a few solemn vows

 

  1. He will never let Yuuri feel that alone again
  2. He will stay with Yuuri until he retires, and even after, even… for the rest of their lives
  3. If Yuuri relapsed again, Viktor would pull him from competition.



 

He loved Yuuri too much to watch him suffer.  Even if it meant pulling him from competing.  

 

Sometimes Viktor wonders whether he came to coach Yuuri or love Yuuri, and which one was more important.

 

Yuuri’s breathing stilled for a moment, and Viktor’s own breath caught, but Yuuri just coughed and continued sleeping.  The evening sun shone orange into Viktor’s room, and he wondered briefly what Yuuri could be dreaming about.

 

Hopefully of happier days and katsudon.

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri was standing on a pedestal.

 

There was the clicking and flashing of old fashioned cameras going off in the darkness around him.  He couldn't see any faces, but he could hear the whispering of people and fabrics.

 

The spotlight that shone on him was glittering with silvery light.  It cast a metallic web over himself.

 

Yuuri squinted into the darkness, trying to find a face, until…

 

Viktor.  He materialized in the darkness and beamed up at him, long silver hair brushing his shoulders.  “You aren't alone, Yuuri.”

 

Another face materialized: Phichit, who was giving him a thumbs up.

 

More faces appeared out of the darkness: Yuuri’s parents, holding each other tenderly and watching Yuuri with pride.  Mari, who looked on the verge of tears.  Minako, Yuuri, Takeshi, the triplets, Yurio…

 

Then the pedestal seemed to shrink, and he was on the same level as all of them, still shining dully in the light.

 

“Oh, I get it now,” Yuuri breathed, and he opened his eyes out of his nap.

 

Viktor was watching him, purple circles under his eyes particularly dark right now.

 

“How are you, love?”

 

Yuuri felt lighter than he had in a long time.  He leaned forwards and kissed Viktor passionately, then nuzzled into his neck.  

 

“I'm going to be okay.  You?”

 

“I've been better,” Viktor admitted, arms encircling Yuuri instinctively.  “Why didn't you come to me, Yuuri?”

 

Sighing, Yuuri pressed a kiss to Viktor’s pulse point.  “I don't want to focus on that right now.”

 

“It's killing me, Yuuri,” Viktor croaked, tightening his grip on the younger man.  “Was it what I said?”

 

Yuuri started kissing Viktor more open-mouthed and sloppy, insistent and demanding.  “Please, Viktor, I just want to take my mind off of it…”

 

Viktor tensed, his nausea resurfacing.  “Yuuri, I don't feel very well.  I don't want…”

 

He had been biting at Viktor’s neck, and froze, retracting himself and getting up quickly.  “I'm sorry, Viktor, I didn't mean…”

 

Sitting up in a panic, Viktor reached towards Yuuri.  “I'm sorry, no, come back.”

 

Shivering, Yuuri clutched his own arms, backing away.  “I understand.  I… that was inappropriate of me.  I just wanted to forget.”

 

Viktor patted the bed again, but Yuuri shook his head.

 

“I'm going to sleep in my room tonight.  You're having a bad enough day as it is.”

 

Viktor watched Yuuri go, tears glittering in his eyes.

 

The Russian growled out, “Fuck you, anxiety.”

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri found himself standing on the edge of the onsen the next morning, frowning into the water.

 

It was unwise for Yuuri to soak with his cuts so fresh.  He sighed, sitting on the side and dipping his feet, kicking the water absently.  

 

Though his sister had been avoiding him for the most part, she still came to check on his bandages in the morning to change them.  She had left without saying much, and Yuuri felt it clog his throat with emotion.

 

She was just trying to look out for him, but she was out of her depth and was having trouble thinking straight.

 

It was the first time in a while that Yuuri’s mind had quieted down and slowed enough for him to just enjoy the moment, and it was extremely strange.  Yuuri looked up at the steam rising into the washed out color burst of sunrise, wondering briefly why yesterday had seemed so… dire?

 

Yuuri thought about the list of names sitting on his desk, and decided that today he would do what Kya had asked.  

 

Taking a deep breath, Yuuri stood up and walked back towards the locker rooms.  The steam reflected like crystals against the sunrise, and Yuuri couldn't help but remember something very essential.

 

This world is... _beautiful_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being amazing, as always. Your comments and communication give me life<3 If you guys have any feedback regarding the structure from this point on, feel free to drop me a message or comment with your thoughts.
> 
> Next time: Yuuri spends the day with a list of his friends and family and his mission from Kya. Also, Viktor contemplates what made him break down while drinking, and where that leaves his relationship.
> 
> If you like this, check out my other YOI fics! "Tabula Rasa" is a short roller coaster of emotion. For kinks and humor, check out "I'm going to die in this closet, aren't I..."


	30. One Is Silver...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri reaches out to close friends to ask them an important question, prompting them each to remember moments from their past. Viktor deciphers his drunken rant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello, hello.
> 
> So this fic is going to be in two parts. Part One: Silver is what we're in now. Part Two: Gold will be the next part. Silver will be preseason and gold will be during the season.
> 
> I just want to, again, give a shout out to all you lovely people who comment and give me feedback. Each and every one of you is wonderful and you make writing this worth all the heartache and hard work. I'm blessed to have each of you<3
> 
> The title is taking from a short tune we learned in scouts: Make new friends, and keep the old. One is silver and the other 's gold.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of self harm, anxiety, depression, past abuse/assault, and anxiety attacks. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Sing holiday tunes with them as loudly as you can until you can't talk properly the next day. Also, hot chocolate.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

Ice Castle was begrudgingly awakening.  The Nishigori couple was passing each other in sleepy silence, going about their normal morning routine in a fog.

 

The triplets were napping in the office, their Saturday plan to sleep until 9 and then help with little errands around the rink.  Yuuko absently stroked a hair on Loop’s head, checking to make sure they were still there.

 

It was always a struggle to raise their family and run a business.  The girls didn't get days off like most kids, because they were almost always at Ice Castle or school.  Yuuko wondered once what it would have been like if her and Takeshi hadn't gotten pregnant so early and suddenly, but she wouldn't trade her beautiful girls for the world.

 

Takeshi squinted into the rink and said in a sleepy stupor, “Yuuri is here.”

 

Yuuri was almost always at Ice Castle at the odd hours.  It was his best practice time.  Before ice hockey teams and skate lessons filled up the rink with tiny skaters and overran the place, Yuuri would mark the ice as his own.

 

Then, sometimes, they’d find him lacing up as they were packing up for the day.  The triplets would trek past him and give him some motivational lines, and Yuuri and them would all cheer that he would do his best.  Yuuri was always so good with the triplets, so much so that Yuuko wishes that Yuuri had come home earlier, so that the girls can have another stable adult figure in their lives.

 

Yuuko braced for the chilly air of the rink, sliding her black gloves on and watching Yuuri skate in circles, eyes closed and mouth moving to whatever song he was listening to.  

 

When Yuuri opened his eyes and caught sight of Yuuko waving lazily, leaning against the boards, Yuuri skated over to her, taking his headphones out of his ears.

 

“Morning, stranger!” Yuuko flashed a dazzling smile at Yuuri, who blushed in turn.

 

Upon reaching Yuuko, Yuuri started to look apprehensive.  “What's the matter, Yuuri?”

 

Biting his lip, the skater ran his gloved hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact.

 

“Yuuri?”

 

It took a few moments before Yuuri cleared his thrust and looked up at her with shining eyes.  “Yuuko, if I were struggling one day and called you, would you help me?”

 

The question was so out of the blue that Yuuko frowned.  “Of course, Yuuri.  You're one of my oldest friends, I'd do anything to help.”

 

It appeared that Yuuri wasn't done, yet.

 

“What if… I threatened to hurt myself?”

 

The echoing of the cooling system kicking into high gear went off like gunshots.

 

“What's going on, Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri’s eyes were getting a little red, tears welling up.  “I… a few years ago I started hurting myself.  I stopped, but I've been relapsing recently.  When I… have an urge I'm supposed to reach out to people to help.”

 

Immediately Yuuko’s eyes darted around Yuuri’s body, like she was looking for evidence of his claim, but came up empty.  

 

“What can I do?” Yuuko asked, feeling sadness clamp around her heart.

 

Yuuko could remember Yuuri when he first started skating.  The kid was all steadfast dedication and determination, willing to fight through everything to achieve his dream of becoming a figure skater.

 

The anxiety started when he was around twelve and was training for juniors.  Yuuko remembered when skating took on an edge of desperation for Yuuri, trying to be the best and feeling like he always came up short.  Yuuko was at every competition locally, though.  She cheered him on with Takeshi, and Mari.  Yuuko watched every skating competition on TV with Yuuri so he could study the form, and of course Yuuko and Yuuri were constantly exchanging Viktor Nikiforov merchandise.

 

Yuuko had known Yuuri for so long that she thought that he would never surprise her anymore.

 

“When that happens I just need company.  I need a safe place where someone can distract me and ensure that I stay safe.”

 

Yuuko had seen Yuuri’s anxiety tear through him like a monster out of a horror film, and she'd never backed down before.

 

“We’re here for you, Yuuri.  If you ever need a safe space our home… and here… can be that,” tears welled up in her eyes now, too, “I care about you so much, you know?  I just want to see you happy.  Is it skating that's getting to you?  Maybe you need a break…”

 

Shaking his head, Yuuri shot her a watery smile. “If anything skating is helping me cope.  Thank you, Yuu-chan.”

 

He gathered her into a tight hug, and Yuuko hugged him back, fear trickling into her limbs.

 

_Don't do anything stupid, Yuuri.  I couldn't stand to lose you._

  


_***_

  


Minako could remember the first time she’d ever seen Yuuri.  Her old friend from school had stopped by the studio with him.  He was just a tiny ball of sweater and glasses then, peeking out from behind her legs.

 

“This little one is my Yuuri.  He’s interested in taking ballet.”

 

She'd kneeled down and Yuuri blushed, hugging his mother’s leg tighter.  His cheeks were round and pinchable, but Minako had the wherewithal to restrain herself.

 

“Yuuri, huh?  You want to be a ballerina?”

 

The kid was thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head.  

 

Surprised, she asked, “why do you want to learn how to dance, then?”

 

Peeking out a little more, Yuuri puffed out his chest in determination, fear melting off of him.  “One day I'm going to make history.  You need to work hard to make history, and dancing is one of the hardest things there is!”

 

The answer was so shocking that Minako actually felt herself rock back on her heels, looking up at Hiroko with wide eyes.

 

Her old friend’s smile twinkled knowingly.

 

“Listen, kid, I promise you that if you stick with me, we can make that happen.  Deal?”

 

Yuuri nodded, looking up at her with stars in his eyes, with so much admiration that it was hard to look back

 

Right then and there, Minako knew that she had to help this kid.  She never would have made it so far in dance if she hadn't had instructors who believed in her; she would give Yuuri that same support.

  


***

 

Minako was watching Yuuri stretch in her studio with a frown.  “Bend your knee more, kid.”

 

Yuuri was stretching his legs, pulling his ankle to his butt, but he seemed to have a tightness on his left side.

 

Dropping his legs and his arms, Yuuri sank down against the mirror, putting his head in his hands.

 

“I'm sorry, I can't today.”

 

Curious, Minako joined him on the studio floor, doing a perfect split and leaning with her head in her hands and her elbows resting on the floor.   “Did you have a bad fall?”

 

Shaking his head, Yuuri whispered, “I relapsed again.”

 

She tried so hard every day to see Yuuri Katsuki, Grand Prix finalist, college graduate, and friend, but whenever he looked up at her with those eyes, the ones that trusted her completely, she saw the little bundle of Yuuri who insisted that he was going to make history.

 

So that little boy was looking at her, fear and pain lining his face, and Minako was at a loss.

 

“When?”

 

Biting his lip, he whispered, “the day after Viktor was sick.”

 

“Why aren't you in the hospital?”

 

Yuuri winced a little bit.  “My therapist and psychiatrist decided that I was safe to be home.”

 

A flashback, a sudden memory of Yuuri sitting against the same mirror, breathing raggedly, trying to collect himself enough to take his sweatpants off, feeling self conscious in his tights and leotard.

 

Shaking her head to clear it, Minako switched positions so that she was a sitting butterfly, pressing her knees down to open her hips.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Yuuri chuckled at that, shaking his head so that his dark hair fell to obscure his face.  “I'm doing fine, I guess.  Better, and worse.  I'm working on it.”

 

There was a stale silence before he asked, “if I'm ever in a bad place, can I… can I call you?”

 

Memories were still flashing in Minako’s mind like a movie that kept skipping parts of the reel. Late nights in high school when Yuuri would be practicing at all hours to soothe his nerves.  Every competition that Minako had to talk him down so that he could perform, every time she iced his bruises and put bandaids on blisters, every time that Yuuri sobbed through a practice with her, refusing to tell her what was wrong.

 

Here he sat, a few years older and a few years heavier with anxieties.  She wondered if he ever had someone to dance with him late at night in Detroit.

 

She wondered whether she should have let him leave at all.

 

“Of course you can, Yuuri.  I’ll come out any time of night that you need me, kid, you know that.”

 

Tears welled up in Yuuri’s eyes as he nodded solemnly.  “That’s… yeah that's good to know.”

  


***

  


Two and a half years ago, Phichit came home from class early.  He had a present for Yuuri, one of Yuuri’s favorite ice cream flavors.  The two of them moved in together when Phichit turned 16, as Celestino wanted Yuuri to take the younger skater under his wing.

 

It was rocky waters at first, but soon Phichit’s bubbly personality melted Yuuri’s cool exterior and they became fast friends.

 

Phichit admired Yuuri, and aspired to skate as expressively as Yuuri did.  

 

When Phichit stepped into Yuuri’s room with excitement, and Yuuri’s pants were drawn down, blood trickling and sparkling wetly from a few horizontal cuts on his thigh, Phichit dropped the ice cream.

 

“Phichit!  Knock!” Yuuri pulled his pants up and tucked something behind his back, blushing furiously and looking extremely angry.

 

Phichit closed the door, but couldn't move.

 

He heard rustling from inside, and soon he decided that he should give Yuuri some space.

 

Later that night, Phichit knocked tentatively on Yuuri’s door, and it opened a crack.

 

Yuuri was curled up in a ball on the bed, watching tv and snuggling with his Makkachin plushie.  Phichit walked over to him and drew his desk chair next to his bed, eyeing Yuuri warily.

 

“So you’re a cutter, now?”

 

No response.  Phichit sighed, worrying his phone between his hands.

 

“I… Yuuri you can't do this.  You’re going to scar, and you could get infections…”

 

Wet eyes looked back st Phichit helplessly.  “I can't stop.  It's the only thing that works.”

 

“Yuuri, maybe you need to see someone…”

 

Defeated, Yuuri sighed, looking off out the window, watching the droves of people bustle to their destinations.  “Yeah, maybe.”

 

He didn't.

  


***

  


Phichit was taking a break from practice to check social media when a FaceTime call came in from Yuuri.

 

“Hey, Yuuri!  Long time no see!”

 

Yuuri looked a little worse for wear; he had bags under his eyes and his hair was sticking up in odd places.

 

Phichit saw the sadness swirling behind his eyes immediately.

 

“Hey, Phichit.  How's practice been?”

 

Ah, the distraction game!  Phichit was awesome at that.  “Good!  I have my quad down, I think, and with that in my roster I might actually be competitive to get into the Final!”

 

An honest smile stretched across Yuuri’s face.  “That's so great.  I better watch out, you might snake that gold medal out from under me.”

 

“I doubt it, though.  I practiced with you a few weeks ago, so I know how good your programs are,” Phichit laughed and Yuuri stuttered out another wavering smile before it was finally time to drop niceties.

 

“Tell me, Yuuri.”

 

“I relapsed again.”

 

It was so quick that Phichit had to run the words through his mind again, to make sure he understood.

 

It hit him in the chest like a punch.  Phichit tried his best to keep a straight face.  “Have you talked to your therapist?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Silence.  Yuuri lowered his eyes solemnly.  “Are you disappointed?”

 

Phichit shook his head sadly, forcing a warm smile.  “I just worry, Yuuri.  You’re my best friend.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You know you can call me whenever you’re in a bad place right?  I’ll drop everything.  You mean too much for me to let you suffer alone.”

 

Yuuri’s lip was trembling, as he choked out, “thanks.  That's exactly what I needed to hear.”

  


***

  


Viktor was sitting in the onsen, soaking his sore muscles.

 

Yuuri and him hadn’t spoken much outside of practice for the last few days.  Yuuri needed space to heal, and Viktor needed space to stew.

 

The translation of his cries from the other night swirled around in his head.

 

_He hurt me._

 

_He’s going to leave me._

 

_My mother won’t even speak to me.  She hates me.  Why does she hate me so much?_

 

Stephan, Yuuri, and Mama.  Two people who irreparably damaged him, and one person he couldn’t stand to lose.

 

Later at therapy, Viktor began shakily, “The first time Stephan hurt me, I thought it was an accident.  We were in an argument and… I honestly was saying some pretty cruel things.  He threw me back against the wall.  I had bruises on my elbows and one of my hips.  He apologized profusely, and it seemed to be over.  It was quiet for a short bit after that.”

 

Dr. Okuma remained silent, inferring that he wanted Viktor to continue.  The good doctor was honestly worried that if he said the wrong thing, this new open Viktor would spook like a deer and dart away.

 

“The second time he didn’t directly hurt me.  He smashed my friend Elena’s car windows while she was over one night.  Elena and I have been friends for years, and are physically intimate on occasion.  Stephan knew this, and must have thought we were seeing each other.  I offered to pay for the windows,” Viktor brushed this off as if it was just another bill; a necessary expense.

 

“The third time was… well, the third time was…”  Viktor trailed off, neck heating up.  “I… I liked it rough, you see.  Stephan liked that I liked it rough.  One day he, um, took me up against the wall and fucked me.  I… wasn’t in the mood but I couldn’t talk because his hand was over my mouth so my neighbors didn’t hear.”

 

Dr. Okuma’s heart was beating very fast.  Viktor looked very spacey, lost in thought, his lips parted in a half formed thought that he hadn’t finished.

 

It was said in a rush.  It was said as casually as ‘I had a good day today’.

 

Dr. Okuma wasn’t sure what he should do, exactly.

 

How do you tell your client that they were…

 

“The last time he hurt me I kicked him out and broke up with him.  He’d seen me leave the rink with another skater and thought I was cheating.  I was making us dinner, and he came in and started trashing the place.  I got him to leave, but my apartment was in tatters, and I… got so depressed that I couldn’t move.  I just laid on the bed until Yakov found me the next day.”

 

The clock ticked.  It had only been ten minutes since Viktor started talking.  How can you fit so much in such a short amount of time?

 

Dr. Okuma was considering canceling his next appointment.  Getting Viktor to talk about his past was usually pulling teeth; the man was no better than a toddler in that respect.

 

“I… got drunk a few days ago.  Really, really drunk.  I was saying a whole lot of jumbled babble, but there were a few things that stuck out.  I kept saying that ‘he’ hurt me.  I kept saying that Yuuri can’t find out, otherwise he’d leave me.”

 

“Why?” Dr. Okuma was honestly on the edge of his seat.

 

“I…” Viktor trailed off, searching his thoughts, and his eyes widened.  He clamped his hand over his mouth and looked up, shaking.  “I don’t want him to know about… he won’t want me anymore if…”

 

Pause.  Tick, tock.  Lavender scents wafting through the air.

 

Viktor brought his hand down.  “Was… was I… raped?”

 

Dr. Okuma got up and talked to his assistant quietly to have his associate take his next appointment for him.

 

When he came back in, Viktor was already partially dissociated, staring into space and slumped in the chair, like the realization had poked a hole and the “him” was slowly leaking out.

 

“Viktor, I need you to stay with me.  Can you tell me five things that you see?”

 

Looking up, confused, Viktor asked, “What?”

 

“Five things you can see, Viktor.”

 

“A… you.  The clock.  Your desk.  Um, that fern.  My shoes.”

 

Dr. Okuma nodded knowingly.  “Now tell me five things you can feel.”

 

Viktor was starting to come back to himself, touching each object in turn.  “My pants.  The chair.  My hair.  My phone.  This table.”

 

“Good.  Now, Viktor, I don’t know whether what you said is rape or not unless you answer some very key questions.  I’m going to need you to stay with me while I do that, alright?”

 

Blinking, Viktor nodded, crossing his arms in front of his chest in a show of discomfort.

 

“Did you say yes?”

 

“I… it was so long ago.”

 

“Did you say no?”

 

Shaky breath.  “I tried to but I couldn’t talk.”

 

“Did he get your consent before initiating contact?”

 

Fingers tightened on his opposite arms.  “No,” he said firmly.

 

Dr. Okuma wrote a quick but very important note on his clipboard and got back to Viktor.

 

“Listen, Viktor, this happened many years ago.  It can’t hurt you anymore, as you don’t even live in the same timezone as your attacker.  It’s important to remember that though the memories are scary, they can’t hurt you anymore.  This happened a long time ago.”

 

“Yeah,” Viktor whispered breathily, “Yeah, you’re right.”

  


***

  


Yuuri was awoken in the night by his door opening.  A sliver of light cast upon him in his sleep, framing the face of a nervous Russian

 

“Yuuri?”

 

Sitting up, Yuuri blinked the sleep out of his eyes.  “What’s up?”

 

Viktor stood in the doorway, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking extremely uncomfortable.  “I… miss you.”

 

It had been a few days since Yuuri’s relapse.  He'd wanted to get a little space and had been sleeping in his own room.  However, here Viktor stands, lower lip trembling and hair disheveled.

 

Sighing, Yuuri sat up.  Watching Viktor looked so pained was in and of itself painful.  Even though his anxiety wanted the distraction, there was something in him telling him to keep his boyfriend at arm’s length for right now.  

 

However, he couldn’t wait forever.  “Come here.”

 

Relief washed over Viktor’s face.  He came into the room and closed the door, moonlight quickly becoming the only source of illumination.

 

Yuuri scooted over and lifted up the blankets to allow Viktor to tunnel in, going directly to hug Yuuri around the middle and press a soft kiss to his clothed chest.  “Thank you.”

 

It was so quick, so innocent and adorable that Yuuri couldn't help but catch Viktor around the middle, brushing his hair back to press a kiss to his forehead.

 

“I love you,” Yuuri mumbled against Viktor’s silver hair, making his boyfriend clutch him tighter.

 

They fell back asleep tightly wound together, and Yuuri slept sounder than he had in days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Healing hurts. You sometimes have to break something down to put it back together. Healing is fucking difficult. It's worth it, though. Every moment of heartache, every moment of weakness is worth struggling back to the surface.
> 
> Keep fighting, my loves. You've made it this far; you can do anything.
> 
> Next Up: Yuuri and Viktor try to come back from their painful week.
> 
> If you like this, check out my other YOI fics! "Thin Line Between Us" just finished a short while ago with an epilogue on the way; I have quite a few fun one-offs, too. Your support is greatly appreciated :)


	31. Silver Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor comes to terms with his revelations with his past. Yuuri takes time to be the supportive one in the relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya!
> 
> I'm so sorry that this chapter is a day late<3 Christmas got hectic and crazy. 
> 
> I hope everyone is having a happy and fulfilling holiday season. I got YOI socks, a onesie, and numerous other lovely items. I'm very pleased :D
> 
> I want to give a shout-out to @paxton1976 for reading the first few chapters and giving me good feedback. They write the lovely "Met by Accident" as well as numerous other incredible fics. Check them out if you haven't already!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of anxiety, depression, self-harm, sexual assault, abusive relationships, and explicit sexual content. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Make yourself chocolate chip cookies and dip it in milk, and listen to soothing meditation music. 
> 
> I do not own Yuri! on Ice, because otherwise it would be traumatizing

When Yuuri came to the next morning, Viktor was watching him with tired eyes, as if he hadn’t slept a wink.

 

“Viktor?”

 

“Make love to me.”

 

Blinking, Yuuri sat up, brushing a strand of hair behind Viktor’s head.  The Russian was worn down; Yuuri hadn’t had time to talk to him the night before, and felt a renewed panic rise in his throat. “Are you sure?  You look upset.”

 

A single tear rolled down Viktor’s cheek.  “That’s exactly why, love.  If you’re comfortable, take me apart.  Love me with everything that you have.”

 

Yuuri had been so distant, but now his eyes burned like suns in their intensity.

 

He leaned in and brushed his lips against Viktor’s lightly, hovering at the catch of breath.

 

“Say yes, Viktor.”

 

Viktor rolled so that Yuuri was on top of him, saying with added force, “Yes.”

 

At that request, Yuuri took him apart slowly.  His teeth and tongue explored his stomach, sucking a trail of marks until Yuuri’s lips danced just above Viktor’s cock.

 

“Yes,” Viktor whispered, and Yuuri dove down and swallowed it, giving it attention before leaning over to the nightstand to grab the lube.

 

This time, Yuuri only had to look at him.

 

The response was the same.  “Yes, love.”

 

Viktor wasn’t crying anymore.  He looked worn down and wary, smiling tightly up at his lover as Yuuri worked him open.  His pleasure was like finding something that you didn’t realize was lost; it was a smoldering coal in his belly that roared to life when provoked.

 

When Yuuri slipped the condom on and entered Viktor, something felt different.

 

Oftentimes, Yuuri goes fast and hard, abandoning all logic and just working off of base instinct.   This was not one of those times.  This was slow and loving.  Every inch of Viktor’s face and neck were getting devoured with kisses and love bites.  Yuuri’s fingers entwined with Viktor’s tightening and not letting go, working Viktor slowly to orgasm.

 

When Viktor came, Yuuri worked his hand over Viktor’s cock until it was spent, and then let himself fall apart, next.

 

Yuuri laid on top of Viktor’s chest, basking in the afterglow, fingers tracing swirls on Viktor’s shoulder.

 

“Hey, Viktor?”

 

The older men kissed the top of Yuuri’s head.  “What, love?”

 

“I’m glad I could give you that.”

 

It was moments like this, where Viktor was rendered speechless by this man.  When Yuuri could see through him like glass, through all the bravado and fame right down to the very core of his being, is what made Viktor Nikiforov love Yuuri Katsuki.

  
  


***

  
  


At practice later that morning, Viktor had renewed his gentle touches on Yuuri  That evening, they ate dinner together, heads bent towards each other and eyes locked together.  After dinner, the two of them soaked under the stars.

 

At night, they slept like babies in each other’s arms.  

  
  


***

  
  


Viktor found himself walking along the waterline at dusk, the orange-blue shading of the sky punctuated with clouds and passing birds.  The sand was cast in a silvery grey light, and Viktor's bare feet sunk into it.

 

He dialed a number, and waited patiently.

 

“Hello?  Vitya?”  The voice was panicked.  “Vitya, is that you?”

 

“Yes,” Viktor answered, fingers starting to shake.

 

“I’ve been worried!  Yuuri sending me that text was very difficult.  What’s been happening Viktor?  Are you alright?”

 

Gulping, Viktor felt tears start to come.  “He… he hurt me, Yakov.”

 

The coach didn’t ask for clarification.  Yakov knew exactly what he was speaking of, and was silent on the other line, taking a steadying breath.

 

Viktor fell back into the sand, the chilled surface pressing insistently through his jeans.  

 

“I had always… you were a little different after.  I knew, but I never knew.”

 

A seagull cried.  Viktor bit his lip, asking, “Is… is it okay?  Am I still… he didn’t ruin me, did he?  Is that why I can’t find the inspiration for programs anymore?”

 

“That’s ridiculous!!!” a shout came almost immediately, so loud that Viktor had to hold the phone away from his ear.  “You’re Viktor Nikiforov!  You left skating because you’re always trying to surprise people, even if I disapprove.”  There was a short pause, then, “He couldn’t ruin you, Viktor.  You’re too much a fighter.”

 

“Oh, yeah, you’re right,” Viktor laughed wetly, holding himself together as he shook with emotion.  A seagull cried above, and the sun was tucked in gently below the horizon.

  
  


***

  
  


Mari was stubbing out a cigarette when Viktor came onto the porch, looking troubled.

 

In response, Mari took another one out and lit up, watching Viktor with her dark eyes, sizing him up.  Viktor and Yuuri had seemed to have patched things up, but Viktor had something weighing on him.  Mari would make sure that he would get to talk if he needed it.

 

“What can I do for you?”

 

Viktor wilted into one of the chairs, staring at a lamp.  The light reflected back in the blue light the hottest flame.  “I… have you ever felt like your past keeps coming back to haunt you?”

 

“Ah, this,” Mari said knowingly, brushing her hair back and blowing smoke out of her nose.  “Yuuri told me that you were having trouble with an ex?”   
  


Viktor couldn’t have expected Yuuri to keep it to himself; Yuuri had admitted to putting the puzzle pieces together and had confided in Mari, specifically.  They had talked in hushed voices over the racket in the laundry room, and Mari had come out of the conversation resolved to talk to Viktor.

 

“What else did he say?”

 

Instead of answering, Mari looked troubled, avoiding Viktor’s eyes and debating something internally.

 

The blue smoke curled around Mari like a veil, and after a few moments she muttered.  “When I was eighteen my teacher kept me after class and tried to assault me.”

 

Viktor’s fists had clamped together so hard that he worried that his nails were drawing blood.  Apparently, Yuuri had shared.  Apparently, Mari understood.  It was a tenuous, fragile connection.  Viktor clung to it like it was life itself.

 

Survivors had to stick together.

 

“He was showing me how to answer a question when he reached down and started touching me without my permission.  At first, I was too stunned to say anything.  Then he tried to take my clothes off, and that was when I tried to fight back.”

 

It was like the smoke was obscuring Mari just enough that Viktor wasn’t able to decipher her facial expressions; maybe smoking had been protecting her all these years.

 

“If it weren’t for one of the other teachers catching him, I would have…” she shuddered.  “It was still assault, though.  He still did things without my permission.  Just because he didn’t put it in doesn’t make it feel any less violating.”

 

Taking a long drag, Mari appeared to be done.

 

“How did you get past it?”

 

The woman worried her lip, dragon’s breath of smoke tumbling out when she released it.  “I found someone to show me what it was supposed to feel like.  Well, you know what I mean.  I admitted that it wasn’t my fault.  I talked to my friends and let them remind me that I could trust people.  I… I’m still working on getting over it completely, but I know that I’m more than my assault.”

 

It happened very quickly; Viktor pressed a kiss to Mari’s forehead, and the woman blushed, watery smile stretching on her face.

 

“Hell, Nikiforov, you have me crying over here.”

 

They stayed outside until the tears disappeared with the smoke in the wind.

  
  


***

  
  


It was while Viktor had been reading and Yuuri was doing yoga in the sitting room.  He was taking a sip of tea, when a feeling hit him that was akin to peace, and he set his book down.

 

The other man always looked some combination of sexy and adorable while he was in yoga poses.  It really depended on whether or not you could get a good view of his amazing thighs or ass.

 

“Yuuri?”

 

The younger man looked up with bright eyes.  He’d looked better since he’d started using his coping skills more regularly, again.  The progress was slow, but noticeable.  The Katsuki family had a pile of hats and scarved ready for the winter.  The yoga mat was out almost every morning.  Yuuri looked a little worse for wear some days, but he fought through it, and that was in and of itself incredible.

 

Yuuri came down from downward dog and continued stretching by reaching for his toes.  “What’s up?”

 

All the air disappeared from the space around Viktor as he struggled to find the words, as his vocal chords panged with confusion.

 

“This is… hard for me…”

 

Suddenly more alert, Yuuri got up and came to kneel before Viktor, eyes meeting his and looking at him seriously.  The brown sparkled with sincerity, and the expression shook Viktor to his very core, making him shudder at what he would have to say.

 

Time passed, and Yuuri waited patiently.

 

“I… my ex-boyfriend, Stephan, was abusive.”

 

Yuuri’s fingers caught Viktor’s on the other man’s lap, and the younger man nodded in encouragement.

 

“He… was physical a few times, but mostly it was just him threatening me and making me feel terrible.  Once, though, when I wanted to say no, he had sex with me without my permission,” Viktor shook his head, realizing that he had said it wrong.  “He… raped me.”

 

Yuuri’s grip on his boyfriend’s hands tightened.  Yuuri might have guessed and assumed, but hearing Viktor admit it out loud was a wholly different thing.  Yuuri was trying to keep eye contact with Viktor, but looking at the searching and sad face made him want to glance away.  He couldn’t, though.  He had to prove to Viktor  that he could handle this.

 

“It was so long ago, but… it still happened.  I’m just now figuring out how to deal with it.”

 

Nodding, Yuuri brought Viktor’s hand up to his lips, pressing a chapped kiss to it.  “We’ll get through this, Vitya, just tell me when you need me.”

 

“It’s… I think I’m okay but I might need to talk about it a little now that it’s on my mind.  Is that… okay?  I think parts of me have already healed, but… I need to give this some of my attention, right now.”

 

“Of course, Viktor,” Yuuri reassured, coming to sit up higher and brush silver hair out of his face.  “I’m here when you need me.”

 

When they got back to the bedroom that night, Yuuri crocheted while Viktor talked.  He didn’t cry, but the far-off look in his eye told him that he’d mentally checked out in order to cope.  

 

The story was graphic.  The story made Yuuri start to tear up at points, but he held himself together for his boyfriend.  The little hints Viktor had been dropping for months fell into the bigger picture smoothly, but the picture itself wasn’t particularly pretty.

 

The two of them talked for hours, until Viktor looked emotionally exhausted enough to sleep for days.

 

When Viktor curled up in Yuuri’s arms that night, Yuuri whispered soothing things into his hair, his voice lulling Viktor fast asleep.

  
  


***

  
  


“We’ve got competition in three weeks, Yuuri.  We still need to talk about reducing the jump difficulty until you can improve your performance scores.”

 

Yuuri had fallen in his attempt at a quad salchow for the fifth time that night, and was lying on the bitter ice in defeat.  Viktor skating over to him, looking at him with interest.  

 

“Are you planning on becoming frozen katsudon, love?”

 

Shaking his head, Yuuri hauled himself up, determination setting on his face.  “No, I’m going to get this.  I have to.”

 

Yuuri practiced for hours, but Viktor stayed at the rink with him.  Viktor had spoken to Yuuri about the way he felt after the midnight practice that was right before his most recent relapse.  Viktor would never let Yuuri walk home alone from one of these again.  Which meant that Viktor got to watch Yuuri fall over and over, and gather a collection of bruises fit for any athlete

 

On his phone, Viktor scrolled through Instagram, liking other people’s photos.  Phichit posted a #tbt and tagged Yuuri.  It was of the two of them with whipped cream smeared on their noses, laughing at what looked like a fraternity party.  

 

Viktor commented with a few fire emojis, a few heart emojis, and then a smiling dimple emoji.  Phichit responded with a wide-eyed emoji and a few hearts of his own.

 

When he looked up, Yuuri was about to enter the jump.  Before his eyes he watched Yuuri launch, rotate, and catch himself on the ice, no hands coming down, no overrotation.

 

He’d done it for the first time all night, and Yuuri didn’t pause to recover.  Instead, his face hardened, with a determined  _ if I got it once I can do it again. _

 

They were there until late in the night.

  
  


***

  
  


Viktor was watching Yuuri run his routines through over and over.  At this point he was just trying to drill his muscle memory as much as possible, so that he wouldn’t have to overthink the programs.  This didn’t require a lot of feedback from Viktor; Yuuri was stunning in practice, almost flawless.  It was in competition that his form started to falter.

 

The journal sat opened in front of him, and he sighed, continuing his writing from earlier.  The passage went something like this:

 

_ Dear idiotic feelings log, _

 

_ Today I’m feeling fine.  The sun is shining.  Yuuri looks particularly good today as his sweatpants fit his ass very nicely.  I saw three other dogs while walking Makkachin today.  I had eggs and toast for breakfast. _

 

_ My therapist gave me an assignment.  I’m supposed to write letters to people who have hurt me, people that I’ve decided never to speak to again.  He thinks that I should write down my feelings about them so I can sort through them myself. _

 

_ Well, here goes: _

 

_ Dear Stephan, _

 

_ I’ve never really let myself remember how much you’ve hurt me.  Sometimes I think back to our relationship and it looks like a scrapbook, in that I glued decorations and lies over the dark parts so the whole thing looked beautiful. _

 

_ You hurt me in ways I can’t even describe.  Look at me, though.  I was a gold medalist before you and even though I struggled I was a gold medalist after you.  When you… when you  _ _ forced me _ _ …  _ _ raped me _ _... betrayed my trust, there shouldn’t have been any forgiveness.   _

 

_ It makes so much sense, looking back. _

 

_ I was in so much pain the next day.  They don’t talk about the physical pain.  They talk about how you’ll feel detached and won’t want to touch anyone and need counseling, but they won’t tell you about the lower back ache.  They don’t tell you about how masturbating makes you want to vomit for a while.  They don’t tell you that you’ll cry the next time you have consensual sex, because even if you beg for it, even if you say yes and yes and yes, your body will still feel wrong. _

 

_ They don’t tell you about the blood you find coming out of you for a few days.   _

 

_ They don’t tell you about your lack of appetite. _

 

_ They don’t talk about how being in the room with that person will make you feel all types of wrong.  In fact, if you live in Russia and your boyfriend raped you, they don’t tell you anything, really.  They just say that you should have known better than to let another man touch you like that, at all. _

 

_ I blamed me, for letting myself forget and pretend that it wasn’t what it was.  Soon, I just went with what you told me.  That the sex was rough but good, and that you’d make up for the fact that I couldn’t come the next time. _

 

_ And you did.  So I forgot. _

 

_ I want to find you and scream at you that I found someone who loves me the way I deserve to be loved.  I want to find you and brand you as abusive right on your forehead so that no one would dare come near you again. _

 

_ Fuck you to hell, _

_ Viktor I-was-too-good-for-you Nikiforov _

 

Finishing that part off with a flourish, he saw Yuuko making her way over to him.  He quickly closed his journal and bookmarked the page he was on, smiling winningly at Yuuri’s oldest friend.

 

“What can I do for you, Yuuko?”

 

Sometimes Yuuko still had trouble talking to Viktor like he was just someone in her rink.  She spent most of her life idolizing the man with Yuuri, and never dreamed she would get to meet him in person, let alone see him on an almost daily basis.

 

“I wanted to talk to you about Yuuri.”

 

Ah, Viktor remembered the list that Kya had Yuuri working on.  Yuuko’s name had been checked off.  Scooting over on the bench, Yuuko made herself comfortable, watching Yuuri continue to mark his jumps and drill his step sequences.

 

“He’s been having a hard time lately.  He’s been different since he came back from Detroit.  I think you being here has been good for him, but in other ways… I’m just so incredibly worried.  Also, I’m just hopeful that he can fight through this and still give an amazing performance this season.  He looks like a new skater out there, but…”

 

The woman narrowed her eyes at the ice, her porcelain skin drawing down at her frown.  

 

Viktor took her hand gently.  “He’s working on it.  I have to believe that he can pull through this.  He has the talent to wipe the floor with the competition if he just manages to keep it together.”

 

At some point, Yuuri had told Viktor that he’d never seen Yuuko cry.  Not that she hadn’t cried altogether, but that she only cried at specific times for specific things.  She cried when she was happy, she cried when she was proud.  Yuuko cried to show the depth of her positive feelings towards something.

 

However, Yuuko doesn’t cry when she’s sad.  

 

Viktor needed to maybe pick that skill up from the fierce mother of three.

 

“Viktor, can you promise me, something?”

 

Her intensity was enough to make him shiver and make eye contact with her wide eyes, boring into his and holding his stare.  “Anything.”

 

“Keep him safe,” she whispered, so quietly and secretly that Viktor just barely heard it.

 

It wasn’t a plea to keep him happy.  It wasn’t a plea to help him win.  It was a simple plea, but extremely essential in its simplicity.

 

_ Keep him safe. _

 

An unspoken:  _ he doesn’t need to be fixed.  Just make sure he’s safe.  If he’s sad, hold him tight.  If he’s scared, shoo the monsters away.  If the world is too much, fight off the world, tooth and nail. _

 

Biting her lip, Yuuko was watching with a suddenly serene expression as Yuuri reached his final step sequence of Yuri on Ice.  

 

Yuuko sighed and said, “I love him, you know?  I… I need him.  He doesn’t care that I work crazy hours.  He doesn’t mind helping with the triplets.  His family treats us like family when… well, whenever we need them to be.”

 

Viktor remembered when he was worried about Yuuko being the one to impress.  As Yuuri’s oldest friend, he’d expected to be tested, but Yuuko never reamed Viktor.  Instead, she watched.  She listened to Yuuri.  She observed them kissing and giving each other patience and working through difficult practices and through all of that, she’d gotten everything she had needed to hear.

 

When she got up, she saw Yuuri finish his third run through in a row with a flourish, and she cheered and clapped loudly, the sound echoing around the room like she was an entire crowd of supporters.

 

The way that Yuuri beamed, she might as well have been.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking about writing a regular less upsetting fic? Like maybe something along the lines of "I'm going to die in this closet" or "what's my line anyway?" but, like, multichapter. If that's something you might want to see lmk on twitter (painted_lady12) or tumblr (painted-lady12).
> 
> Next time, Viktor and Yuuri will both have demons to face and will have to find the balance between being strong and being supportive.
> 
> If you like this, check out my other YOI fics! "Tabula Rasa" is my favorite still, but more recently I've been working on the emotional wreck that is "Close Enough to Get Burned" which is rough but some of my most lyrical writing to date.


	32. Sliver of Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri both search to reprioritize and refocus after their bad weeks. Then, they seek solace in each other's arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the late update! The holidays were hell and I had some drama at work so I'll be posting this chapter today and another on Monday (with a surprise story).
> 
> This chapter was very difficult to write. The hardest part about healing is holding out hope that one day it will be worth all the heartache. 
> 
> As always, I want to thank my regular readers for their support and enthusiasm. The feedback I get for this story is overwhelmingly touching and I'm so grateful for each of you<3
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING*** discussions of topics like self harm, depression, anxiety, and explicit sexual content. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. If no loved ones are available, reach out to a helpline. There are compassionate and well-trained people who can help you. In case either of these don't work, go to a public place and just relax. Sometimes it helps to be around people without being around people 
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! On Ice

Viktor’s parents never bought the right presents.

They were always wrong in some way. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful; honestly, he'd give anything to go back to the time in his life where he got presents from his parents at all. Where he even had parents.

But.

He remembered them clearly, these wrong presents. They were tainted with something that made Viktor’s stomach clench as he smiled and hugged his parents in thanks.

Train cars in his least favorite color.

A sweater two sizes too small.

A watch, sterile and business-like, stainless steel with no numbers.

A black and blue tracksuit.

A pair of skates, top of the line, without any markings or colors.

Viktor had bought all of his own vibrant outfits. Viktor had adopted Makka from the abusive home and she’d brought light to his life. Viktor had gotten the merchandise from his favorite shows and the little touches of himself that flooded his house with life. His life.

When his mother tried to kill herself, Viktor threw most of it away.

It was a mocking luxury. Why weren't the things his parents bought good enough? Why does he deserve more?

He tried so hard, but he couldn't convince himself that his mother's attempt wasn't his fault. That everything he bought for himself wasn't just another nail in her theoretical coffin.

He thought he’d put on such a good show, too. He thought he'd done it flawlessly.

Maybe that's where it started. The false smiles and bravado, the chirping “thank you” like beautiful frosting covering an ugly cupcake, bent and dry.

Viktor was thinking about all of this during his therapy appointment, fixated on the corner of the carpet.

“Viktor, are you alright?”

A smile. A flourish of his hand. “I'm fantastic!”

Dr. Okuma shook his head imperceptibly. He jotted down some notes.

Viktor’s smile wilted and his arms dropped like dead weights.

Another memory floated to the top of his mind. He could see a deck of cards from a game he didn't play. It was sitting under the Christmas tree in his mind’s eye. Why couldn't he just learn the game? Why did he have to shove it to the bottom of a drawer? It was sitting on his bookshelf, wedged between a recipe book and a picture of Makkachin.

“Viktor?”

Glassy eyes stared back at Dr. Okuma, for just a moment; then the film peeled back, and Viktor took a stuttering breath, steadying himself and trying his best to remain strong.

“My parents never bought the right presents…”

  
***

  
Viktor sat in the ballet studio, writing in his notebook but getting extremely distracted by the way that Yuuri was bending and moving. The curve of his hips, the meat in his thighs, the strength of his hands...

He told Minako that he was stepping out.

In the stairwell, Viktor tapped his pen cap on the page.

_Dear feelings log,_

_You are still stupid. You are still annoying._

_However, I was raised with a few guideposts that my dad hammered into my brain. One of them was that a man has to handle things in his life, had to take care of what he needs to take care of._

_I'm slowly learning that this is one of those things._

_He had a lot of beliefs that he was adamant about keeping and drilling into my head. For that reason, I'm forever grateful that I didn't come out until after my father passed away. He died without that weighing on him._

_My therapist says that is a harsh judgment._

_My mind is telling me that it's just the way of the world._

_I'm due to write another letter._

_I'm not ready, yet._

_Forever yours,  
Viktor_

  
***

  
Yuuri watched Viktor duck out into the hallway. He continued stretching, and Minako was eyeing him warily.

“How are you doing, kid?”

Tired. So tired of fighting. So tired of watching his boyfriend suffer. So tired of going through the motions and doing his best and not just giving into temptation.

So, so tired.

“I'm a little overwhelmed,” Yuuri admitted, eyes unfocused.

“How has you two been doing since the other night?”

Minako was watching Yuuri with trepidation. Mari had told Minako about the relapse in the hopes that when Yuuri was with her she’d keep a close eye out for marks on his skin.

Yuuri turned to Minako, breaking his stance. “I'm barely holding it together.”

A pause. “What can I do for you?”

A breath. “Tell me that it's all going to be okay.”

Blink, shuffle, avoid eye contact. Repeat.

“It’s all going to be okay.”

Empty words clinking like spare change onto the floor, heavy and useless.

  
***

  
One morning, Viktor woke up and smiled at Yuuri. Yuuri was framed in sunlight so beautifully, love bites on his neck from making out the night before adorning his perfect skin.

Viktor forgot that he was supposed to write a letter. He forgot his own name.

Sometimes things take us out of ourselves, and translate what we know into something else altogether. Sometimes we just need something to restructure what we believe, for the briefest moment, and the world clears up. At least for a while.

When Yuuri’s shining brown eyes cracked open, and his smile made his cheeks widen, that's when Viktor knew that it was going to be okay, again.

  
***

  
It took a few more hours for Yuuri. Anxiety takes away chances for restructuring of priorities when it burdens the sufferer with its second-guessing.

Phichit had just hung up with him and was sending a series of pictures that showed poodles doing cute things. Yuuri was laughing so hard he was snorting, and he turned to show Viktor, but realized that he had isolated himself earlier in the evening and he was alone in his room. He had walked away from Viktor.

His eyes widened, and he knew that he had to go to him.

When he found his boyfriend, nestled on the couch watching an anime with Mari, he pressed a kiss to his forehead and showed the Russian his phone.

They laughed together. They found joy in the moment and if they could, they would freeze frame the simple pleasure of sharing humor and affection with someone you love. This moment was safe, this moment was perfect.

There would be so many bad days ahead, sure. However, there would be more days curled up in the summertime, dog draped across your lap, too.

The two of them didn't notice the subtle shift, as they themselves hadn't quite put together the significance. However, when Mari watched them walk to Viktor’s room that night, her tight hold on the key in her pocket loosened. She hid the key where she had been keeping it before Yuuri’s most recent relapse: in the office safe.

The padlocks weren't touched.

The sharp objects were accounted for.

The two men slept soundly that night.

  
***

  
The next morning, Yuuri woke from a dream that was extremely steamy. He had had Viktor suspended from the ceiling in handcuffs, and was fucking him mercilessly against the wall.

His cock was straining against his boxers, and Viktor stirred suddenly, feeling it against his stomach.

“Good morning,” Viktor moved unfairly against Yuuri, making him hiss.

“Don't do that, Viktor.”

Viktor looked up at Yuuri mischievously. “What would you like me to do instead, then?”

All the possibilities were racing through Yuuri’s mind. His fingers trailed along Viktor’s stomach delicately, making the Russian shiver.

“Strip,” the younger man ordered, and Viktor quickly kicked off his pants and underwear, throwing the blankets off the bed and straddling Yuuri possessively.

“What now, Yuuri?”

“I… touch yourself,” Yuuri whispered, “I want to see you get off.”

A blush spread down Viktor’s chest, and he lowered his ass to rut against Yuuri’s cock. “You sure you don't want me to take care of that?”

“Later,” Yuuri assured, running his fingers along Viktor’s muscular thighs. “I just want you to focus on making yourself feel good.”

Biting his lip, Viktor nodded, pulling lube out of the bedside table and lathering up his hands nicely. Yuuri took off his clothes awkwardly as Viktor did so, cock snapping to attention underneath Viktor’s beautiful body.

When Viktor started touching himself with his one hand, his fingers snaked behind him and started teasing himself open. Yuuri’s breath hitched, watching Viktor’s face fall in ecstasy at the sensation.

“You’re so beautiful,” Yuuri whispered, hands running down the planes of Viktor’s chest. Viktor moaned at that, starting to rock back and forth above Yuuri.

This is what making love was supposed to feel like. A burning build-up, and enthusiastic participants. Yuuri would never make Viktor question whether either of them wanted it. There would be no guesswork, and no mixed signals.

“Is this okay?”

Viktor’s eyes rolled back into his head, and a smile split his face. “Amazing, love. You like watching me touch myself, I presume?”

“You’re beautiful when you’re like this,” Yuuri whispered reverently, sliding his hand up to Viktor’s ass and slapping against the skin, making Viktor buck and yelp. “I want to see you so blissed out that you can’t think straight.”

Viktor was still looking shocked and smiled. “Yuuri! Did you just spank me?”

Making direct eye contact with Viktor, he slid his hand up the ridge of Viktor’s hip and back down to his ass, slapping against the skin there. Between Viktor fingering himself, rubbing his cock, and the spanks, Viktor was completely lost to the throes of ecstasy.

It didn’t take long for him to come, thick ropes falling onto Yuuri’s chest. The younger man closed his eyes at the warm and lewd sensation of being covered with his lover’s come.

Viktor was still a little out of it, breathing raggedly above Yuuri, but he grinned toothily when Yuuri started running his fingers through the spill. Then, the man below Viktor ran his come-soaked hands over his own cock, bucking at the warm sensation.

“Yuuri, you’re… that’s…” Viktor was trying to find words for watching Yuuri slick his hand with his own come, but failed, eyes following the movements greedily. “Fuck me.”

Shaking his head, Yuuri started panting as he whispered, “No, I want to come with you watching, just like this.”

That prompted Yuuri to start being more punishing with his strokes, gasping and muttering Viktor’s name. Viktor was still extremely turned on and red-faced above Yuuri, rocking back onto his heels to watch Yuuri take himself apart.

Yuuri didn’t last that long. The younger man had been getting more and more wound up watching Viktor. Soon Yuuri came too, and when Viktor got up to grab a towel, Yuuri pulled him back down.

“No, just for a minute…”

Bemused, Viktor watched Yuuri close his eyes, running his fingers through their mixed spill over the chiseled planes of his stomach.

“I love feeling you on me, Vitya,” Yuuri moaned, and Viktor bit his lip, extremely turned on yet again.

After Yuuri gave the okay, the two of them climbed into the shower together, kissing and smiling and completely caught up in their love. In the early morning it was easy to forget the rest of the world; your problems don’t catch up to you yet, your worries are an entire dreamland away.  The morning is sacred, and beautiful for two men whose worries tend to be the enemy.

Yuuri pinned Viktor against the wall a few minutes in, fingers dipping back into the slicked and stretched hole.

“What a waste, you got yourself all ready for me…”

Viktor was trapped, and was swarmed with feelings of comfort from the closeness. He liked Yuuri like this, the way he only was in the bedroom. He’d started seeing snippets of this Yuuri in other places, but normally this piece of Yuuri is reserved only for when they are alone. It made it real, and special, and it made Viktor start begging.

Even though it was rough, Viktor knew that if he said the word, Yuuri would stop. Yuuri would get as far away as possible. It never even occurred to Viktor to be afraid of Yuuri.

In fact, his body was throbbing for him.

“Please Yuuri I need your cock I need you to make me feel good…”

The Japanese man was pressing his cock against the cleft of Viktor’s ass, nipping and sucking at the skin on the back of his neck.

“Tell me more.”

“You’re cruel, Yuuri,” Viktor whined as Yuuri started nipping at his earlobe. “You’re the only one who can satisfy me. You’re the only one I want like this. Please, fuck me. Only you can make me come.”

This seemed to satisfy Yuuri, because Viktor felt him start to press in and tensed, pressing back against the attention to get a better angle.

It took a few minutes, but soon Viktor was bent over, hands braced on the wall and legs kicked apart, his hole being split open by Yuuri’s cock. Viktor was breathing, trying to get himself under control at the overwhelming sensation of the stretch, but soon something occurred to Viktor.

“Yuuri, we’re not... using a condom.”

Viktor barely managed to gasp that out as Yuuri froze up. “Do you want me to pull out? I know both our tests were clean, but I can go get one. It won’t take that long.”

The words placated Viktor, and the fear that he’d had upon initially being penetrated dissolved. This was Yuuri, who had gotten tested with Viktor a few weeks ago. Who Viktor trusted to tell the truth. Something inside of him was wagging their finger judgmentally at him, but he didn’t want to lose the feeling of Yuuri inside of him.

“Keep going,” Viktor assured, and Yuuri nodded, running his fingers through Viktor’s hair and then grabbing it tightly, making Viktor see stars with how good it felt.

“Fuck, do that again!” Viktor cried out, and Yuuri thrust into Viktor while tugging his hair back, and Viktor actually screamed.

They both froze, because they were still in the house and people could hear them if they weren’t quiet, so Viktor shoved one hand inside his mouth, muffling the sound as best he could.

“I love it when you sing for me, Vitya,” Yuuri growled, thrusting in again. This time Viktor screamed but it was swallowed down due to Viktor’s mouth being full already. “Whenever I touch myself, I think about your moans and voice. I come every time, then.”

Yuuri’s voice petered out as he started thrusting harder and harder, continuing to pull back on Viktor’s hair. Viktor’s noises were a jumbled muffle, and through all the steam Yuuri could see tears start to gather in the corners of Viktor’s eyes.

One final tug on his hair sent Yuuri over the edge, riding the orgasm tightly into Viktor and then slowly pulling out.

Viktor was shaking a little bit, so Yuuri helped to steady him, holding him against him and spreading his fingers over his stomach, pinching and sliding his way down to Viktor’s cock.

Yuuri started to see his come dribble down the side of Viktor’s leg, and he smiled, biting into Viktor’s shoulder possessively. A few strokes and the combination of the bite and the come sent Viktor over the edge again, leaving them both panting and clutching each other under the running water.

  
***

  
The two of them were smiling in practice, riding the high of their love, kissing and laughing and encouraging each other. They were silly, and breathless with exertion.

Yuuko watched them with emotion swirling in her chest, a warm comfort that spread down to her toes.

Yuuri was happy, and safe. He looked blissed out and hopeful and even confident.

Takeshi came up behind her and slid his hand into hers. “They might be cute, but we’ve got a whole family of cute.”

“Are you jealous?”

Her husband laughed, and pressed a kiss to Yuuko's forehead. There was so much love and trust in that kiss, so much unspoken that she knew because she knew her husband better than anyone else in the world.

“They should be jealous of us,” Takeshi teased, and Yuuko squeezed his hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takeshi and Yuuko don't get enough love. They're raising three triplets on their own and running a business and still find time to support Yuuri. I really enjoy spotlighting them!
> 
> Next time: Yuuri and Viktor work out the final adjustments to Yuuri's programs as competition season draws nearer


	33. Silver Bullet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor engage in a multi-part sexcapade that they both thoroughly enjoy. Then, Viktor has a choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves<3 
> 
> I want to start by apologizing for the late update. I had to rework the outline of the story after I realized some things, and so the editing lead me to realize that there are only a few more chapters left of "Silver". Between now and when I begin "Gold" I'll be releasing short side stories, similar to the format of "One Is Silver". They'll feature all the characters that I felt didn't get enough time on here. I'll be releasing one featuring Yurio sometime this week!
> 
> The next update should be up in the next few days. 
> 
> Again, I just want to say how grateful I am to each and every one of you. Having you guys comment and cheer for me means the world. I don't think I can ever express that enough<3
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of anxiety, depression, suicidal ideation, and explicit sexual content. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, call a loved one. Sit them down and tell them your story, of all the things you've overcome, and all the battles you'd won. Tell them about the few that you lost, and why. Your story is absolutely magical, and no one can tell it better than you.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

Yuuri was fingering a new toy in bed, waiting for Viktor to come to their room.  Yuuri had been planning this night out for days, and had prepared appropriately  He was so excited to add another fun dimension to his sex life with Viktor.

 

They’d been steady for a while.  Their first competition was in two weeks, so before they hit their last leg of intense practices, Yuuri wanted to share this with Viktor.

 

He looked up at the ceiling.  He would be in block championships in only two weeks.  Viktor and him would make their debut as a team, and Yuuri would know whether or not he could make it to the Grand Prix Series.  

 

The nerves were wrecking him, which is why he needed a fun thing to try tonight.  He needed something to look forward to.  Something that would take him out of himself, something that would…

 

The door opened, and Viktor walked in, mouth in a heart shape.  “Yuuri, you won’t believe what your sister just…”

 

Viktor’s voice died in his throat when he caught sight of Yuuri, a small collection of items in front of him setting off alarms in his brain.

 

“Yuuri, what is all this?”

 

Brown eyes looked up at Viktor intensely, without any fear.  “I have a proposition for what we can do tonight.”

 

They hadn’t had sex much lately, partially from being so tired at practice, and Yuuri wanted to make sure they did something like this, now, while they can.  Viktor closed the door and shed his shirt, coming over to sit cross-legged in front of Yuuri.

 

The arrangement of toys were as follows: a few sizes of butt plug, a cock ring, a dildo with a vibrator on it, and a pair of handcuffs.

 

Viktor looked quite excited already, licking his lips.  “Is it going to be a guessing game?”

 

“No.  I’m going to tell you what we’re doing, and with your consent, we’re going to do it all.”

 

Whistling, Viktor picked up one of the cock rings.  “Is this for me?”

 

“No,” Yuuri quipped, putting it back on the bed.  “We’re going to start with working me open with the vibrating dildo,” Yuuri gestured to the dildo in question, which was textured blue silicone.   “Then, we’re going to put the cock ring on me, so I don’t come early, and you’ll fuck me until you come inside of me.  Then we’re going to plug me up so none can escape,” Yuuri pointed to the wide variety of anal plugs, “Use whichever one fits.”

 

Viktor’s pants were already getting tight.  “Then what?”

 

“Then you open yourself up for me.  You’ll get yourself ready, then take the cock ring off me, so I can fuck you mercilessly.  Does all of that sounds agreeable?”

 

Viktor gulped loudly, nodding and touching to handcuffs.  “Are these for anything?”

 

“I want you to wear them,” Yuuri explained, “For the last part.  I want to push you into the mattress and make you mine, completely.”

 

Viktor nodded, fingers twitching.  “I’m a little worried about noise, though, Yuuri.  Won’t this bother the guests?  And your family?”

 

“Oh, we’re not doing that last part right now.  I got us a room at a large hotel a short train ride away.  Where we can be as loud as we want.”

 

Viktor looked stunned.  “Yuuri?  We have to… we have to get there now, you know that, right?”   
  


“Yupp,” Yuuri smiled devilishly.

 

“You… you’re a monster!” Viktor covered his mouth, blushing scarlet.  “I… can we call a car, at least?”

 

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” Yuuri said happily.  “So, now that you know the plan, let’s enact act one.”

 

Viktor short-circuited.  “Wait, act one…”

 

Cocking his head to the side, Yuuri said innocently, “The part where you open me up, fuck me until you come, and then plug me up.  That’ll all be right now.”

 

Yuuri and Viktor had had a very long talk after their last sexual endeavor.  They both agreed that condoms weren’t necessary, but that they would both be tested every three months for any problems.  Yuuri was thrilled about all the opportunities it opened up.

 

It took Viktor three seconds from when Yuuri said this to pin him onto the bed.  They were both panting.  

 

Viktor’s hands started sliding delicately along Yuuri’s exposed skin, electric and impatient.

 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?  Yuuri, my little cumslut.”

 

The word made Yuuri gasp and whimper.  “Viktor…”

 

“You are the sexiest man alive, you know that?  You’ll be so beautiful, full of me.  It’ll be our little secret until we get to the hotel.”

 

Yuuri wiggled and begged, having been waiting for this part for days and wanting, no,  _ needing  _ Viktor to do what he asked.  Viktor was smiling against Yuuri’s neck, skin thrilling with warm tickles of breath.

 

“Yes,” Yuuri said breathily, “Make me yours.  Claim me from the inside.”

 

Yuuri could think about the meaning behind him desiring this, about how his relationship with Viktor depended on his performance at competitions and that time was quickly running towards them.  However, if he stopped to think too much, he’d lose his nerve.  

 

Viktor nipped at Yuuri’s earlobe and traced bites down his neck.  Viktor shrugged Yuuri’s shirt off and ran his hands down the plane of his back, tracing the muscles, before devouring that, too.  

 

Talking about what they were doing first had made Viktor excited already, and he was already moving his hips against Yuuri, making Yuuri yelp and gasp at the sensation.

 

“V-Viktor,” Yuuri begged, “Please, fuck me.  I need you.”

 

It was such a simple request.  “I need you” didn’t specify what he needed him for.  It could mean anything.  Viktor got up suddenly, and Yuuri whined at the loss of warmth and happiness and  _ Viktor.   _

 

Turning around, he saw that Viktor had clicked the lock on his door.  “Just in case,” Viktor teased, “It’s one thing for your parents to catch us, it’s another thing entirely to explain all of these fun toys.”

 

Blushing scarlet, Yuuri nodded.  “Y-yeah, good idea.”

 

Then Viktor pressed some buttons on his phone.  “To make sure that the car is ready for us.”

 

When Viktor got back to the bed, he leaned Yuuri back and bracketed him on both sides with his arms.  “Lift your hips, love.  I want this to be hard and quick.”

 

Nodding, Yuuri obliged, and Viktor took off his pants and underwear with little effort.  Yuuri worked at Viktor’s sweats and t-shirt, and soon they were naked and the warm press of skin made them both melt.

 

Viktor had never felt anything so wonderful as skin-to-skin contact with Yuuri.  He craved it like a drug; no, more than drugs.  He craved it like water; it brought the same primal satisfaction as any of his other base urges.  Yuuri was his, and he was Yuuri’s.  In the time that they’d known each other, they’d both grown and healed and strengthened their bond by strengthening themselves, and every day Viktor Nikiforov fell more in love with his boyfriend.

 

Fetching the lube from the bedside table, Viktor picked up the vibrating dildo, running his fingers over it.  “How long have you had this?”

 

A blush creeped down all the way to his chest.  “Um, a few weeks?”

 

The blush got deeper as Viktor peered at Yuuri curiously.  “Have you… used it?”

 

“I…” Yuuri closed his eyes, “I wanted to make sure I’d like it.”

 

It wasn’t anger that made Viktor’s blood boil at the words.  No, it was more like lust, that the thing in his hand was something that had been inside of Yuuri, that his lover had clenched around and pushed inside of him… Viktor quickly lubed up his fingers and the toy, pressing two fingers into Yuuri, who propped his own legs on Viktor’s shoulders.

 

Yuuri swallowed him up, and Viktor tilted his head to the side.  “How recently?”

 

“Last night,” Yuuri squeaked, and Viktor bit at his calves playfully.  

 

“Naughty boy.”

 

Viktor pressed a third and fourth finger in with ease, scissoring and pressing against the walls, trying to open Yuuri up as much as possible.  Viktor knew that Yuuri’s prostate would be hard to reach like this, but the toy would do marvelously.

 

Viktor removed his fingers and quickly pressed the toy in, lube squelching.  It made Yuuri’s head hit the bed as he moaned in pleasure. 

 

“Ah, Viktor, more…”

 

“Like this?” Viktor asked, and pressed the button on the bottom to start the vibrations.  “Oh, whoops, can’t forget this little one,” Viktor picked up the cock ring and carefully placed it on Yuuri.  It looked like it hurt, but Viktor knew from experience that it was just uncomfortable pressure.

 

For a few moments Viktor just played around with the vibrations, trying to find the right setting to drive Yuuri wild.  Eventually he found a quick pulse patterns that made Yuuri grab a pillow and scream into it.

 

Viktor decided that that was enough torturing for the moment and removed the dildo.  Viktor lathered himself up with new lube and pressed himself against Yuuri’s wrecked opening, and having little resistance on his way in.  The way Yuuri pressed around him was unreal; he felt it all the way down to his toes, this closeness that they shared.

 

Sometimes they made love slowly, but tonight wasn’t one of them.  Viktor pounded into Yuuri, who was biting his pillow with his screams.  The bed shook, and Viktor felt sweat start to pool on his chest  He bent Yuuri even more in half, trapping his leaking cock between them, and leaned down to pull Yuuri’s mouth up from the pillow into a sloppy kiss.

 

Yuuri whispered expletives into Viktor’s mouth now, biting on his lip enough to bleed.

 

“Yuuri, I’m… tell me now if you want me to pull out…”

 

Wrapping his arms around Viktor’s neck tightly, Yuuri held on tight to Viktor as the older man came.

 

In all the romance novels they talk about that moment when two people become one; where they lose themselves and can’t tell where one lover began and another ends.  Viktor had no idea what those novels were talking about.  There was nothing but the co-mingling of breath and the hot press of skin, and everywhere Viktor and Yuuri met hot enough to burn.  Viktor couldn’t think much past the place where Yuuri and him were separated by too much skin and too much…

 

Viktor was heaving, and he was careful not to pull out yet.  He felt around next to him for the second-biggest plug, and quickly pulled out, pressing the plug in and only letting a little bit of his come escape.

 

If Viktor felt amazing, then Yuuri was on cloud nine.  He wouldn’t let Viktor go, even after he pulled out.

 

Viktor pressed kisses into Yuuri’s hair, laying him back down and staying close.  Yuuri was still fidgeting underneath him, still painfully hard, but Viktor chuckled darkly.  “Are you going to back out, lyubov moya?  We can stay here…”

 

Instead of answering Yuuri’s fingers snaked into Viktor’s hair, pulling it tight so that Viktor’s neck was stretched before Yuuri.  The younger man licked a stripe up the sensitive skin.  “Your phone is buzzing.”

 

Shocked, Viktor looked at his phone on the nightstand and saw that the car service was, indeed, calling them.  Viktor handed the phone to Yuuri, who managed to speak in clipped Japanese before hanging up.

 

Viktor was unsteady on his feet when he got up, and he handed Yuuri’s tossed clothes back to him.  Yuuri was gingerly redressing, face red and breath hitched.  The whole room felt like it was watching them as Viktor helped Yuuri up.  Yuuri pointed under the bed.  “I packed an evening bag with medications and clothes.”

 

After Viktor retrieved the bag, he pulled Yuuri close to him, the clothes doing nothing to hide the fact that...

 

“You’re lucky that those are tight briefs, Yuuri.  Maybe we should get you a long sweatshirt.”

 

“Viktor!”

  
  


***

  
  


The car ride to the hotel, thirty minutes away, was actual hell.

 

Viktor was so handsy, and Yuuri felt like he was going to burst, every touch sending him into overdrive, but nothing could make him cross the line.  At some point he pushed Viktor away and crossed his arms defiantly.  “Be patient, Vitya.”

 

When they got to the hotel, they bolted from the car.  Yuuri had to do the exchange at the desk, but soon they were riding an elevator up, and Yuuri pressed against Viktor’s side, clinging onto him like his life depended on it.

 

“I’m going to wreck you,” Yuuri lilted, and Viktor’s fingers shook on their floor number.

 

They got to the room, and Viktor had a few seconds to marvel at the adorable local decorations and the beautiful king-sized bed before Yuuri was pushing him back onto it.

 

Yuuri clawed at Viktor’s t-shirt and quite literally ripped it off.  Viktor opened his mouth to complain, but it was quickly claimed by Yuuri’s hungry tongue.  The younger man leaned back, pulling his own clothes off.  “Open yourself up for me, Viktor.  Then I’m cuffing you and fucking you into this mattress.”

 

Of course, Viktor couldn’t forget the plan.  That was all that was running through his mind the whole way here, and knowing that Viktor’s come was currently sloshing around inside of Yuuri made him warm all over.

 

When Viktor finished undressing, he retrieved the materials from the overnight bag and lathered his fingers up with lube again.  

 

Yuuri sat behind Viktor with the handcuffs, lips ghosting over Viktor’s back.  “I’m right here, Viktor.  Go ahead.”

 

Viktor positioned his fingers at his opening and pressed in, biting his lip at how sensitive he was after so much waiting, so much thought…

 

Viktor suddenly felt another pressure, and he realized that Yuuri’s finger was working its way in too, and twitched in just the right way to make Viktor fall back against Yuuri’s chest, completely overtaken with the feeling.  They worked Viktor open quickly, and soon Yuuri had taken the cock ring off and was bending Viktor down doggy-style in front of him, plunging into Viktor.

 

This time, when Viktor screamed, they didn’t freeze up in terror; Yuuri just plunged harder.  Viktor was screaming and babbling and completely incoherent, not knowing which way was up or what day it was or even his own name because the feeling of having Yuuri this deep inside of him fixed something in Viktor that he didn’t even know was broken.  

 

There was no concern about the noise.  Viktor lost track of time, with Yuuri buried inside of him, lost track of everything.  The pleasure was so overwhelming that he couldn’t do anything but feel every inch of his blissed-out body.

 

“Viktor, you’re beautiful,” Yuuri whispered reverently, pressing kisses to the other man’s neck.  “I can’t believe I get this.  I can’t believe you’re mine.”

 

There were so many days that Yuuri and Viktor would just marvel at the other.  There were so many days that they were so lost in their own love that everything else just… disappeared into the background.

 

When Yuuri came, Viktor sighed at the feeling.  It was something he didn’t realize he enjoyed until he got the chance to try it with Yuuri, but Viktor loved the feeling of Yuuri inside of him like this.  As Yuuri pulled out, Viktor nuzzled against Yuuri’s chest.

 

They passed out so quickly afterwards that Yuuri didn’t even take the plug out.  Viktor wasn’t going to remind him.

  
  


***

 

When Viktor woke up, he went immediately to the shower, feeling sticky in all the wrong places.  He was careful not to wake Yuuri, though,m and in the shower he leaned against the tile wall, staring straight ahead.

 

He hadn’t been in a hotel like this since Yuuri had run away at the conference.  He was hit very suddenly with the frantic memory of Yuuri disappearing so quickly, of how this wonderful relationship could just slip through his fingers like mercury in water.

 

The shower water couldn’t get hot enough.  His fingers were shaking as he felt a grey nothingness swallow him whole.

 

He dressed silently and went out of the hotel room, fully intending to go get breakfast for him and Yuuri, but instead taking the elevator up...

 

The building was on a cliff; the rooftop lounge had a few lounge areas and plants, and was altogether quite peaceful.  The rails were built as tall as Viktor, probably to prevent drunken mishaps, but Viktor found himself wondering what it would take to get over.

 

It was a game.  Whenever Viktor got too close to something, felt too good, he felt the urge to sabotage it, to do something stupid, like get unbelievably drunk, or slipping below the water in a bath, or standing on top of one of the side tables on a roof, leaning over the view of the ocean.

 

Viktor remembered this razor-thin feeling, this silver devil playing with his mind.  

 

Jump, don’t jump.  

 

Viktor wasn’t angry, or scared.  He’d had a wonderful night with his boyfriend, and this morning he’d woken up with every intention to cuddle with Yuuri and watch television and explore the tiny town they were visiting.  

 

Instead, Viktor took another step up, the wind whipping past him and making him laugh out loud as he lost his balance a little bit, before straightening out and spreading his arms and feeling the bloody sunrise hit his skin, blinding him and making him feel like the world wasn’t even real, the world wasn’t even there.  

 

Just step off, Viktor.

 

Jump, don’t jump.

 

There wasn’t reasoning, or logic.  There wasn’t rational, or irrational.   _ This must be what Yuuri feels like before he cuts _ , Viktor thought, this singular knowledge that what you were doing would be the quick fix you needed.

 

Jump, don’t jump.

 

It would be so easy to just…

 

Don’t jump.  

 

Fall, instead.  Let gravity do its work and reclaim him to the earth. 

 

A sound of a door opening made Viktor step back onto the ground immediately, and a maintenance man came out with glass cleaner to brighten the divider.

 

Viktor was back inside before he could think about what had happened too much.

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri woke up in an empty hotel room. 

 

“Viktor?”

 

_ Maybe he had gone downstairs to use the gym _ ?  Yuuri bundled himself further into the sheets, and pressed his nose against the pillow on Viktor’s side of the bed.  It smelled like safety and warmth.  Remembering what they did last night made Yuuri blush, and when he wiggled and felt something still securely inside of him, he whimpered.

 

The door opened and Viktor entered, smiling with a bag and two cups.  “I got us hot chocolate and breakfast, and I’m about seventy-five percent sure I told them the right thing!”

 

There was a moment where Yuuri looked up at Viktor panicked, and Viktor’s face fell.

 

Shifting, Yuuri muttered, “Before that, I…”

 

Viktor almost dropped the bag.  “Oh!  Oh, right.  You go shower, I’ll get this ready for you.”

 

Yuuri nodded, and was grateful that Viktor didn’t want to go another round.  His libido was begging for it but his abdomen was sore and his legs were weak.

 

After the shower Yuuri sat down on the bed with his croissant.  Viktor settled in next to him, curling up towards him and nibbling on his own scone.  “I love you, Yuuri,” Viktor said dreamily, and Yuuri giggled.  

 

“You sure that isn’t just the sex and scones talking?”

 

Laughing along, Viktor pressed a finger to Yuuri’s lips.  “No,  _ solnishko,  _ even though those are wonderful.  You… I think that with some of the painful things from my past, I wondered if anyone could ever truly love me.  You prove me wrong every day, love, and for that I can never be grateful enough.”

 

Blinking, Yuuri’s eyes started to get watery.  “Viktor, you can’t just…” he groaned and hugged to other man tightly.  “You can’t just say stuff like that!”

 

“You know you love it,” Viktor teased, and they finished their breakfast in happy silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I've outlined this correctly, there should be about four more chapters of "Silver" before moving into "Gold". If you guys have any cool ideas for the side stories I can work on in the interim, drop me a line! I take requests :D
> 
> Also, if you like this, comment or share. Feedback reminds me why I do this in the first place. 
> 
> Next Time: A series of flashbacks in Viktor's life


	34. Silver Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor has more secrets than he originally let on, and a travel back through his high-risk lifestyle reveals how he ended up on Yuuri's doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, loves!
> 
> I will be releasing a short side chapter from Yurio's perspective on my tumblr (painted-lady12) later tonight/tomorrow. Stay tuned!
> 
> Important note from the last chapter: passive suicidal ideation is the occasional suicidal thought without a concrete plan or determination to complete the task. This is what Viktor was experiencing on the roof: a passing fancy. He was not at that time in danger of really jumping. This kind of suicidal thought manifests in many ways, including living a high risk lifestyle, or fantasizing about your own death. Passive suicidal ideation can lead to many negative outcomes, including drug use, high-risk sex, or emotional isolation. If you or a loved one experiences symptoms like this, please seek out support from loved ones as well as the proper psychiatric care. Don't continue reading unless you are up to it. Your health should be placed above all else. If you can't continue, this will be waiting to come back to, when you're ready<3
> 
> On that same note, as we're nearing the end of "Silver", I'd like to share something with all of you. Your kind words and feedback have been incredibly wonderful and I am so lucky to have such a lovely group of people reading and supporting. I hope you all follow me on my adventure into "Gold", but if life gets in the way, just know that this will always be here for you to come back to. That's the beauty of the internet: it's forever.
> 
> This chapter is told as flashbacks further and further back, explaining how Viktor arrived to where he is now, and what got him there. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of depression, drug use, suicidal ideation, and high-risk lifestyle. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, please reach out to someone who can help. There are lots of great apps to help keep you calm, and meditation exercises that help take the edge off. Look some of them up with a friend, and try them out. They might surprise you
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

_ Two days before the Grand Prix Final, 2015 _

 

In a few days, Viktor would dance with a drunken Yuuri.  In a few days Viktor would win his fifth consecutive Grand Prix Final.  In a few days, a gold medal would hang around his neck, and he would smile out into the audience, his pain like a pounding darkness against his chest.

 

It wasn’t a few days from now, though.  It was now, when Viktor was standing on the roof of his Sochi hotel.  This hotel didn’t have a fancy rooftop lounge, because the harsh winter winds would whip a man’s face bare.  Viktor had found the door unlocked, however, and was standing on the ledge, staring at the ocean.

 

It was so cold and dark, here.  Viktor had come up after getting dinner with Yakov and pushing his food around the plate for a while.  It was a pointless exercise in pretending to be a real person.  Yakov told him gruffly to get some sleep and had headed to his own respective hotel room.

 

Instead, Viktor was in his jeans and sweatshirt, his shoes toeing just over the line.

 

The thrill was buzzing through Viktor slowly, as if it was an IV drip slowly spreading in the bloodstream.  He felt so real, finally.  He felt so alive.  He had been feeling nothing but darkness and anger and empty for weeks, but right now Viktor felt real and alive and… like himself again.

 

_ I could end this all right now.  I could take a step off and can feel this heady forever. _

 

Maybe there was someone watching him that day from above, or perhaps Viktor remembered suddenly the many people who would suffer if he jumped, but something made Viktor step off the ledge and go back down to his hotel room.  He collapsed into the bed and stared at the ceiling for two hours until he fell asleep.

 

Lo and behold, a few days later Viktor found something else that made him feel alive when all else was dark and empty.  His best friend and the sixth-place Japanese skater were having dance offs, and Viktor couldn’t help but watch Yuuri have a good time and think  _ oh, that’s that thing I’m supposed to have.  That vitality and love and spirit, the happiness that Yuuri is giving off and saturating the room with. _

 

All at once, Viktor decided that in all the darkness, on that night, Yuuri was the sunrise that reminded him that there would be moments worth living for.  There would be misery and difficulty too, but those sparse moments that stole your breath and made your heart soar would be worth each and every hardship.

 

Viktor would do anything to bottle that feeling from that night and inject himself on the bad days.  Instead, he just had to remember that more days like that would be coming, and that had to be enough, at least for now.

 

For now is good enough.  For now is all we can ask for.

  
  


***

  
  


For Viktor, this is where everything changed.  Everything else was in relation to that one night where he found Yuuri, to that one perfect night that life started to make sense again

  
  


*** 

  
  


_ Six Months Before the Banquet _

 

Viktor was sitting on the floor of his living room.  Makkachin was sitting on the couch behind him, whining and occasionally licking his ear.  

 

Everything felt fuzzy, like the edges of the world were singed.  What day was it?  When was the last time that Viktor had eaten?

 

No, wait.  He... hadn’t eaten in a while.

 

His head hurt.  Right, that’s why he was holding the bottle of painkillers in his hand.  You were supposed to eat with those, right?  Viktor couldn’t find the strength to stand up and get the food, so he just muttered “Fuck it” and poured a few in his hand.

 

About fifteen little pills fell out.  These were prescribed after he injured himself and strained a calf on a jump after Worlds this previous year.  It was extremely good luck that he didn’t have the damage follow him into the regular season.  When the pain was too much to bear, a few of the painkillers put him to sleep so he could get through it.

 

He used to take two.  It had felt so good, though, maybe more will…

 

There was a loud banging in his head.  What was that?  

 

Viktor quickly realized that the banging wasn’t in his head, it was on his door.  Elena was knocking loudly, and started yelling, “Open up, Viktor!  I haven’t heard from you and I’m worried.  Let me in.”

 

More knocking.  Viktor swallowed one of the pills.

 

There was shuffling on the other side of the door.

 

Two pills.

 

The third pill was pinched between Viktor’s fingers for a long time.  Viktor knew, despite his current state, that this was the point of no return.  If he didn’t stop now, this could be all over.

 

Didn’t he want that, though?  The eternal pain of sitting in his apartment, alone and suffering through a cloud of grey and silver was getting to be too much.  It was never hard the first few days, but it was like a load that was added on each moment.

 

It gets heavy, after a while.

 

This would be it, though.  This could be the end.

 

The third pill went down harder, and stuck in his throat.  He chased it down with another.

 

At some point he stopped keeping track.  His ears started ringing.  At some point he felt hands on him, and at another point he heard praying.  Bright lights, bright lights, bright lights.  All touches felt like they were coming through three inches of foam, except… who was touching him?  He didn’t want to get touched!  This isn’t what he wanted, he just wanted the pain to go away, finally…

 

He woke up in a hospital room.  He had an IV, and his mouth tasted like gutter trash.  Despite the warm temperature in the room, Viktor shivered.

 

Everything was shiny, and it took eight times as much effort to look around and move his neck.

 

Someone was sitting on the side, reading a book diligently.  Elena’s hair fell in her eyes and she brushed it back, adjusting her glasses to see better.  Then, she caught sight of Viktor, and stood up.  Her book went tumbling to the floor.

 

“You’re awake,” she breathed, coming closer to sit on the bed next to him.  She was in comfortable clothes.  Viktor wondered if she had left and come back.

 

“I…” Viktor tried to talk but his throat was burning.  His lips were swollen over his teeth.

 

“Don’t talk, they said that you might have trouble with that,” Elena’s delicate fingers clutched at Viktor’s.  She turned his hand over in hers, staring at the lines there.  “I’ve read your palms, a thousand times it seems.  I knew you weren’t supposed to die yesterday, but the way you looked when we got here… they pumped your stomach, Viktor, but you’re probably still pretty high.”

 

He guessed that he was.  Maybe that was why the world seemed so swollen.

 

Viktor thought it would be appropriate to nod.  He did.

 

“You can’t do this to me, Vitya.  We’re supposed to see each other get a happy ending.  How am I supposed to see your happy ending if you’re buried underground somewhere?”

 

Her voice was cold and emotionless, like she’d practiced this so many times that she’d wrung all the sadness and disappointment from the words.  

 

Viktor wished he could talk, to tell her that he wasn’t trying to kill himself, to tell her that he was just trying to feel better.  The more he thought it, the more it also felt swollen in his mouth and he closed his eyes for just a moment.

 

He fell back asleep.

  
  


***

  
  


_ Two Years Before the Banquet _

 

Christophe Giacometti was one of Viktor’s closest friends.  They had been through highs and lows.  Christophe had been there for Viktor during some of the most difficult times in his life, and Viktor had done the same.

 

So Viktor had invited Christophe back to St. Petersberg just after Worlds, taking advantage of their short vacation time to send time together.  They were on and off physical throughout the years.  

 

When Viktor woke up before Christophe, the other man tried to hold him in bed.  “No, it’s too early.”

 

Chuckling, Viktor tried to pry his friend’s hands from around his waist.  “I like early,” Viktor argued, but Chris pulled him back down.

 

They made out in the bed for a while, until Viktor whispered, “I have to go on a run, Chris.”

 

“You and your healthy habits,” Christophe teased, but he knew why Viktor kept those habits up.  He knew why they were important.

 

Viktor ran around in his neighborhood for five miles, then started his cool down jog towards his apartment.  He looked at one of the night clubs in the area that he hadn’t been to in a while, and smiled, realizing what he wanted to do with Christophe later.  

 

Upon arriving back to his apartment, the smell of eggs and coffee drifted out of the kitchen, and he smiled and walked in to see Chris, clad in an apron… and nothing else.

 

“That is definitely one of your best looks, Chris.  Someone will wife you up really fast.”

 

Chris stuck his tongue out and posed, butt showing.  “I’m too much man to be anyone’s wife.”

 

Chuckling, Viktor sat down and tucked into breakfast.  Chris joined him, and the two of them enjoyed their food in relative silence.  

 

“I think we should go out, tonight,” Viktor said each word carefully, and Chris continued nibbling his food.  “I want to take you out and show you a good time.  You’ve been such a good friends to me for so many years.”

 

His friend smiled, sipping his coffee.  “I’d love to go out, but are you sure you're ready?  Last time we went out was… uncomfortable, to say the least.”

 

Flash, flash.  Screaming, sobbing, knees scraped and hands on him, hands where he didn’t want them… except it was only Chris, and he was just trying to help him home, but to Viktor it had felt so real.  To Viktor the experience had been a nightmare.

 

“I’m sure,” Viktor said confidently.  “I have to let the past go eventually.”

 

This is how they ended up getting ready together.  Chris was wearing jeans that were in tatters with fishnets underneath and a tight purple shirt.  Viktor had a silky blue top unbuttoned to the center of his chest, and tight black pants.  They took pictures, posted them on Instagram, got a quick dinner first, then went to the club.

 

It was still early when they got there, but that’s how Viktor liked it.  He liked to get a feel for the place before it was full to the brim.  He liked to strike conversation with the other early-birds, he liked befriending the bartender so that he got his drinks extra fast and extra strong.  Chris got them both margaritas, and Chris handed it over.

 

“You sure?” Chris asked again, and Viktor nodded, taking a sip.

 

“I’ll stop after two or three,” Viktor promised, and Chris smiled, toasting to a wonderful night.

 

They made new friends.  They danced and kissed and laughed and sang along to songs.  They each had a few drinks, but after a while stopped and just let their buzzes carry them through.

 

Viktor was getting both of them waters while Chris was continuing to talk to a few nice people they’d befriended.  That was when he felt hands on his hip.

 

It was so familiar, which was what made Viktor uncomfortable at first.  Then…

 

“Vitya, it’s good to see you.”

 

No, no, no… 

 

Viktor spun around, but he was bracketed on either side by strong arms.  A smirk peaked out from behind a strong mustache and beard, and Stephan licked his lips.  

 

“I’ve missed you, Vitya.  You look like such a treat right now…”

 

With all the ice he could manage, Viktor deadpanned, “Let me go, Stephan.”

 

The other man watched him for a few minutes, then let him go.  Viktor quickly moved back to their corner with the waters, and when Chris saw his pale face, his eyes widened in concern.

 

The lovely people they’d befriended were asking if he was okay, but Viktor just felt… empty.

 

_ Glass eyes. _

 

_ Doll’s eyes. _

 

“Oh, I see, you’re already preoccupied with another fag this evening.”

 

Stephan’s voice made all of Viktor’s hair stand on end.

 

Viktor felt Chris’ strong arms pull him back, and Chris stood between the old couple, staring daggers sharp enough to kill. 

 

“Get away from him.  You’ve done enough,” Christophe’s tone was dark, and Stephan’s eyebrows shot up.

 

“Yes, I have,” Stephan smiled, tapping his chin.  The new friends they'd made were standing on either side of Viktor nervously, but determined.

 

It didn’t stop Stephan from laughing, from making Viktor feel nauseated.  “All the things you and I did, Vitya, do these lovely people know?”

 

No, no, no…

 

“What about when I rode your face until you almost choked?  What about those times that I tied you up and called you a good boy?  What about all those other things from your past, the secrets you bury deeper than anything else.  Like why you didn’t win gold medals until after you got clean…”

 

Each pump of blood through his veins was sharp and loud.  Chris quickly took Viktor by the hand and led him out of the club.  They called a car, and soon they were back in Viktor’s apartment, and he threw up.  He didn’t even drink that much.

 

Chris soothed him.  He assured Viktor that it didn’t matter what they’d done, and it didn’t matter what Stephan knew.  He just wanted power over Viktor, and soon Viktor was tucked under Chris’ chin, and he was rocking him gently.

 

“I’ve seen you at your lowest, Viktor, and I’m still here.  No one can say anything that would make me not want to be your friend.”

 

It was a hollow statement, because Viktor was still against the bar, bracketed by Stephan’s arms and paralyzed by his eyes.  Viktor was still trapped, even though his dog was curling up at his feet, and the TV droned on lazily in the background.

  
  


***

  
  


_ Six Years Before the Banquet _

 

European Championships were a blip on Viktor’s horizon as his lips grazed along Sasha’s body.

 

“Goodness, Vitya, you know how to take your time,” she gasped, rolling over at his command.  He brought her to her knees and pressed his growing erection against the space between her legs.

 

“Are you ready for me, then?” Viktor teased, and Sasha shook her head.  

 

They continued like this for hours, drawing out orgasm after orgasm, hidden in their own corner of the world away from everything.

 

Then, at some point they left Sasha’s apartment and ended up at a party down the street.  The two of them stayed very close.  It wasn’t the type of crowd that you let your girl stray too far away from you.  Viktor was as protective as he was enjoying himself, already three drinks in.

 

Someone offered something to him, a pink pill.  Sasha took it from the person and took out her pocket knife, carefully splitting the pill in half.  Viktor stuck out his tongue, and Sasha stuck his half on his tongue, giggling as she swallowed her own.

 

Things got bright and pretty after that.  Things got  _ so  _ bright and pretty that Viktor forgot completely about Sasha, completely about everything.  They ended up back at Sasha’s place, but something important was missing, something was wrong…

 

When Viktor realized that his phone had been dead for almost twelve hours, once the world started shifting back into focus, he charged it but quickly became distracted by Sasha’s body again.

 

His phone ringing got his attention through his stupor, and he answered the phone, slurring, “Hellooooo?”

 

“Viktor you have a competition in three days!  Our flight was this morning, where the hell are you?  I searched your apartment, and Elena said you were off with that girlfriend of yours…”

 

His head hurt.  How long has his head hurt?  “Yakov?”

 

There was silence for a few moments on the other line.  “Are you on something?”

 

“Maybe,” Viktor giggled, and Yakov cursed.

 

“You are one of the biggest up-and-coming skaters in history.  You need to stop partying and start focusing on your skating again.  There was a time before you hit seniors that skating was everything to you.”

 

Viktor chuckled darkly.  “Then I got to seniors and I realized that they were all better than me.  I’m never going to catch up, Yakov.  I’m just another has-been.”

 

How long has this darkness had a hold on his heart?  How long had he been feeling this way, because he couldn’t remember…

 

Sasha’s delicate hands traced a path up Viktor’s back, and he muttered, “I’ll fly in tomorrow before noon.”

 

He threw his phone hard enough to break it as Sasha’s fingers danced along his body.

  
  


***

  
  


_ Eleven Years Before the Banquet _

 

Viktor had come in fifth place in his senior debut of the Grand Prix Series.  Viktor hadn’t come in any less than second in three years.

 

The guilt was eating away at him.  His followers had dropped dramatically; the news was reporting on how he was a “has-been”.  Though he still had some ardent fans, those few people weren’t enough to fill the void that had been stretching in Viktor’s chest since the competition ended.  At the European Championships he’d come in fourth, but even that wasn’t enough to quench his undying thirst.

 

There was something else, too.  A realization he was coming to, that he was interested in more than just girls…

 

He couldn’t be gay, though, that wouldn’t be... maybe he was bisexual, but that still wasn’t acceptable here.  

 

All he wanted was someone to hold him and tell him that the bad thoughts would go away with time.  He needed a steady presence to say with confidence that there would be a good day coming, even if it was a long time away.

 

That was how he ended up taking a long walk, and the seedy area he was in came into light.  He needed to get back to his aunt’s house, and he wasn’t quite sure how.

 

One hour of wandering later, and he walked up to a sleeping woman on the street.  When he touched her shoulder gently to get her attention, she came to life, a knife coming to press right next to Viktor’s throat, and he gasped, eyes wide.

 

“I don’t have any money,” he shook, and she narrowed her eyes.

 

“You weren’t going to jump me?”

 

Viktor shook his head, the sharp tip of the knife pressing harder against his skin.  “I just got lost.”

 

The woman kept the knife up.  “You’re in the rough part of town, kid.  Hop on the train and take it three stops, you’ll end up somewhere a little safer.”

 

The knife lowered, and Viktor found himself scrambling out of the area.  His body was buzzing and soon he was back in his neighborhood.  His aunt’s apartment was suddenly in front of him, and his shaking fingers stilled.

  
  


***

  
  


_ Thirteen Years Before the Banquet _

 

Viktor was fourteen.  He was the reigning JGPF Champion, he was the reigning champion of Junior Worlds.  His aunt knocked on his door gently.

 

“Vitya, dear?  Yakov called, he wants to know why you aren’t at practice.”

 

It took too much energy to get up, though.  Was he sick?  “I think I’m coming down with something.”

 

He had a lot of the symptoms: body aches, tiredness, weakness.  He continued to sleep, until two in the morning Viktor was suddenly awake, and he sat out in the living room, confused and still tired though he’d slept almost fifteen hours.

 

He sat on the couch, staring at the wall.  Things were passing through his head quickly, flashes, like passing train headlights on a windshield.  What if he walked out on the tracks?  What if he aimed a gun for his temple?  Maybe he was broken, and those things would fix him.  Maybe…

 

Somehow Viktor ended up knocking on Yakov’s door at six in the morning, tears staining his cheeks.  His hair was a mess and his clothes were shabby.  Yakov watched his champion skater break down in front of him, and he ushered the teen into his apartment, trying to shush him.

 

“Yakov, something’s wrong.  I think I’m sick but I don’t have a fever and…” Viktor hiccupped, not wanting to explain further: the images that soothed him were images of death.

 

Lilia made Viktor hot chocolate, and the two of them watched over the skater as he fell asleep on their couch, red-faced and quiet.

 

The next morning, when Yakov asked what was wrong, Viktor just shrugged and left.

 

He went radio silent and wouldn’t speak to anyone.  He focused solely on his career, and that was where all of his energy went to, and it was all the good in his life.  Yakov watched Viktor dig himself into this hole with trepidation.

 

“Don’t isolate from too many people, Vitya,” Yakov whispered, watching his student land his first quad after hours of nonstop practice.  “You can’t do this alone.”

  
  


***

 

_ The Banquet _

 

It was like he was high on something, but Viktor hadn’t touched drugs in years.  Yuuri Katsuki brought him over to dance, and their competition drew a lot of attention.  Yuuri pole danced, and Chris joined him.  Yurio even got involved, dancing with the adults and making the whole night fun.

 

Viktor felt himself thrum with life.  His smile began and ended with Yuuri Katsuki’s smile, with Yuuri Katsuki’s laugh, with the twinkle in his dark brown eyes.  There was more than just a sexual desire there.  There was a kindred spirit lurking in the Japanese skater.  Viktor had never felt so much for any one person so fast in his life.

 

That night, they kissed only once outside of Viktor’s door, and the delicate brush of lips against the corner of his mouth made his heart almost beat out of his chest.  

 

He didn’t sleep that night.  He researched, because he had to know this Yuuri.  The man that did more for Viktor in one night that any amount of drugs or sex or…

 

His heart was beating so fast that he almost worried that he was having a heart attack, but eventually he realized that he was just… happy.  Unbelievably, irrevocably happy.

 

It was like a living thing, and Viktor wanted to cherish it and clutch it close to him.  

 

This is why, a few months later after watching a video, Viktor got on a plane with no plan but finding that little butterfly of happiness that had stuttered to life with Yuuri.  This is why he showed up at an onsen, having dropped his whole life, because to Viktor, Yuuri was the part of his life worth fighting for, the part that had saved him when literally nothing else could.

  
  


***

 

_ Present Day _

 

Viktor was standing on the edge of the observation area, overlooking a beautiful cliff side view.  Memories were whipping past him in the wind.  All those dark places that he’d tucked away so deeply inside of him, all those days where everything was impossible and he couldn’t breathe through all the sadness…

 

Then a hand brushed Viktor from behind, and a wide smile that Viktor loved came into his line of sight.  The butterflies flapped so hard that the wind-whipped memories dissipated.

 

It wasn’t perfect, but it was easier.

 

“Is everything alright?” Yuuri questioned, but Viktor couldn’t be alright.

 

They’d be competing in two weeks, and if Yuuri didn’t qualify, Viktor might lose the one thing that can keep his head above water when everything else fails…

 

Viktor brought Yuuri in for a gentle kiss, and the Japanese man blushed, muttering, “Viktor, we’re in public.”

 

“I can’t help it,” Viktor murmured, and Yuuri melted at the words.

 

He knew that they were trying to be self sufficient, but that was so hard, because Viktor didn’t have much to live for before he met Yuuri.  There was Elena and Yakov and Chris and Yurio and Mila... but there wasn’t anyone that quite anchored him like  _ this _ .  Viktor knew what addiction felt like, and he knew what happened when your supply ran out.

 

Except… maybe, just maybe, when he was in Russia he learned that it wasn’t about one person making you feel good.  His life wasn’t all darkness before he met Yuuri.  He had had beautiful moments with many people he loved before then, so maybe… maybe it wasn’t that Yuuri was like a limited supply.  Maybe it was that Yuuri was just another addition to a wonderful support system he’d already created for himself.

 

There were happy days before Yuuri, and there would be happy days after Yuuri (heaven forbid them parting ways).

 

Viktor stepped back further from the edge.  It didn’t look so pretty, anymore.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's one thing I've learned from the mental health field, it's this: people are onions. Once you've worked through one layer of trauma another on appears. People are complicated and their lives are full of both good and bad. 
> 
> I was wondering when I first wrote this if perhaps his depression was the reason that Viktor didn't place as highly his first few years in the seniors. This is how I formulated this version of Viktor, and I'm glad that I've finally gotten to share this aspect of his backstory to you all.
> 
> As an extra precaution due to the nature of today's chapter, I'm including a link to an international listing of suicide hotlines. Never be afraid to ask for help<3
> 
> http://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines 
> 
> Next Time: Viktor finally writes a letter


	35. Silver Porcelain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor try to keep themselves healthy and happy before the season officially starts, but fate has other plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves<3
> 
> I'm very sorry that the last two chapters have been so difficult. I needed to make sure that this was included in "Silver", due to the nature of Viktor's condition. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: ***discussions of suicidal ideation, self harm, scars, hospitalization, drug overdose, and restraints. If this chapter is too much, at any point please refer to the short summary at the end. Please, if this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Listen to their story. There are probably so many memories just waiting to be unraveled, and sometimes it can be nice to escape into another person's brain for a while
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

Yuuri had his first competition of the season in a week, and his whole body was buzzing.  He was excited to be showing off the programs he’d been slaving over, but…

 

...what if everyone hated it?  What if he made a fool of himself?  What if he fell, or got injured this early on?  What if one of the nobody skaters beat him and he was denied access into the Grand Prix at all???

 

On this particular day, Yuuri was shaking on his way home from practice.  He had Viktor’s hand in a vice-like grip, looking around them.  For some reason, he felt like someone was going to hop out and point at their adjoining hands and say something, but Viktor’s warm fingers were the only thing keeping Yuuri grounded.  He just couldn’t let go.

 

It was a vicious cycle.

 

When they were outside the front door, Viktor pulled Yuuri towards him and pressed a chaste kiss to his nose, then his lips.  “We’ve done all we can do, Yuuri.  I believe in you.”

 

It was enough to make Yuuri melt a little, but quickly the nervousness returned, realizing that though Viktor believed in him, he still might lose him… so this was it.  He had to prove that was he was worth Viktor’s time, that he was worth… anything at all.

 

When they entered Viktor’s room, Yuuri tackled Viktor onto the bed, hovering above him possessively.

 

“You’re mine,” Yuuri muttered, eyes darting around Viktor’s face.  The man in question smiled in response.

 

“Yes, I am.”

 

All at once Yuuri realized what he was doing, and collapsed gently onto Viktor, hugging him close.  “Existing hurts.”

 

Viktor understood that feeling so well that it physically hurt him to hear it.  Was this the time?  No, Yuuri needed him right now.  Yuuri needed to take priority.

 

At some point his love drifted to sleep, and Viktor very carefully extricated himself.  He had a plan, and he wanted it to go off perfectly.  

  


***

  


Yuuri woke up and found the bed cold and empty.  Too tired to stand, he facetimed Phichit, who looked like he’d just gotten out of the shower.

 

“Hey, Yuuri!  How are you doing?”  


The Japanese man shrugged, saying, “I’m just nervous about going into my first competition with Viktor as my coach.”

 

Phichit smiled knowingly.  “You’d be nervous anyway, Yuuri.  Before every competition for years I had to keep you distracted.”

 

Yuuri was thoughtful for a moment, recollecting all of the times Phichit sent him on odd errands or required immediate help with oddly specific tasks.  If a competition was around the corner, it was always, conveniently, also the time of year to clean out the fridge, meal prep for the week, or discover a new videogame.

 

Even though Yuuri knew in the back of his mind what it was, he didn’t necessarily always believe that Phichit would do that.  Sometimes what people do for Yuuri seems oddly excessive or unlikely.  He knew that was the anxiety talking, but still.

 

Yuuri took a moment to appreciate that he’d reached a point in his therapy that he could recognize where he ended and the anxiety began.  The line had been so blurred before, but now he had a firmer grasp of himself.  He was healing himself one day at a time.

 

“Thanks, Phich,” Yuuri said with a watery smile.

 

“What do you and Viktor have planned for the next week?”

 

Yuuri thought about their schedule.  Most of it was dedicated to practice and sleep at this point.  They’d done a fun overnight last week, but that was the last time they had something planned to keep Yuuri distracted.

 

“Maybe I should talk to Viktor about scheduling other things,” Yuuri murmured thoughtfully.

 

The Thai skater’s face lit up.  “Wait, are you agreeing with me?  You’re on board with a safety plan?”

 

‘Safety plan’ was a clinical term, but Phichit and Yuuri had used it often throughout the time since he’d quit self harming.  When he knew that he would have difficult times coming up, or a particular stressor became prevalent, they would come up with a plan to ensure that Yuuri was adequately distracted and taken care of.  Usually, it ended with Phichit being on Yuuri’s ass and Yuuri insisting between grit teeth that it was “unnecessary worrying”.

 

Blinking, Yuuri looked stunned.  “I… I think so, yeah.”

 

“Alright well then you need to go plan some stuff with Viktor.”

 

They said good-bye and Yuuri laid back onto the bed in the dim room, staring at the ceiling.

 

His anxiety was starting to creep up on him.  What if Viktor thought it was a stupid idea?  Yuuri shouldn’t be distracting himself; instead, he should be focusing on the competitions ahead.  Maybe Viktor would think that Yuuri is simply overreacting…

 

However, Yuuri reminded himself of something his therapist had said about anxiety-inducing situations like this one.  “It’s not dangerous, it’s just uncomfortable,” Yuuri reassured himself, knowing that he wouldn’t be bodily harmed by asking this; it just might upset him.  The sense of foreboding was misplaced in this situation.

 

Yuuri finally got up, stretching and shuffling out of Viktor’s room.  Mari was passing in the hallway, and snorted.  “Nice bedhead, little brother.”

 

In response Yuuri playfully stuck his tongue out, earning him a glare.  “I would kick you but you need those legs in tip-top shape.”

 

They laughed and continued in the opposite directions they were supposed to.  Upon reaching the living room, he saw Viktor working very diligently on something on his phone.

 

“What are you doing?” Yuuri asked curiously, because the only reason Viktor looks that intently at his phone is if he was posting on one of his social media accounts, or if he was texting Chris.

 

The Russian looked up suddenly, like he was caught in some terrible act.  He locked his phone and threw it onto the couch next to him.  “Yuuri!  You’re awake!”

 

Narrowing his eyes, Yuuri glanced back at the phone.  His anxiety was going a hundred miles per hour with fears.  Was Viktor texting someone about him?  Was Viktor… texting someone he didn’t want Yuuri to know about?

 

Viktor followed his line of sight and sighed.  “I guess I should just tell you, then…”

 

Yuuri felt his stomach drop through the floor.  This was it, this was the moment he’d been waiting for since the beginning, the moment Viktor would finally realize…

 

“... I’ve booked a whole bunch of fun things for the next week.  We’ll begin with a movie marathon after practice tomorrow, then the next day I have reservations at a nice restaurant not too far away.  Then I scheduled for your mother, father, and Mari to go out and get dinner one of the nights and we can have the onsen to ourselves.  The next night we’re taking the triplets to the movies.  Finally, the day before competition I have a massage booked for you, so you can take your mind off of things.”

 

Stunned, Yuuri rocked back on his heels.  He came out here to ask Viktor to help him stay distracted, yet apparently Viktor already knew.  He’d been planning for a while, it seemed, and had every intention of giving Yuuri what he needed.

 

The blue eyes were staring innocently down into his brown ones, and he tackled Viktor in a tight hug, tears forming in his eyes.

 

“You’re perfect,” Yuuri whispered, and he meant it.  Yuuri learned months ago that the idol he’d raised on a pedestal didn’t exist, but the more he learned about Viktor, the more in love he fell, the more he knew that Viktor and him belonged together.

 

Viktor’s lower lip started trembling.  “Really?”

 

It was so sweet that Yuuri reached up to cup Viktor’s face in his hand, brushing his thumb over Viktor’s lip.

 

“What’s going on, Viktor?”

 

The question came very suddenly, but Yuuri had seen the far-off looks over the last few weeks.  Viktor loves to cater to Yuuri when he’s feeling overwhelmed, and though Yuuri loved and appreciated the gesture, and will enjoy all of the planned activities, he needed to know that he could take care of Viktor as much as Viktor was taking care of him.

 

Blue eyes glazed over for a second, and Viktor pressed a small kiss to Yuuri’s palm, threading his hand in Yuuri’s to pull it away from his face.

 

“I’ve been feeling rather depressed lately for no good reason.  I’ve… I’ve been having trouble convincing myself that I belong here.”

 

“Of course you belong with me, Viktor,” Yuuri argued, then his lips parted as he thought about the sentence again.  “Oh.”

 

The pain that suddenly crossed Viktor’s face made Yuuri’s stomach clench.

 

Yuuri thought back to the times he’d been assessed for suicidality.  “We should call your therapist, Viktor.”

 

Viktor hadn’t had an appointment scheduled until after the competition because he only went every other week, but Yuuri’s grip tightened on him, so Viktor forced out an encouraging smile laced with sadness.  “Come with me?”

 

Nodding, Yuuri squeezed Viktor’s hand reassuringly.  “Always.”

 

Two hours later they were sitting in the waiting room of Viktor’s therapist way after hours.  However, the lights were still on, and the secretary was still busily typing away at the keyboard.  It was unnerving how much she could be writing, but Yuuri bit his lip to stop himself from asking if she was writing about them or not.

 

Twenty grueling minutes later, Dr. Okuma called them in.  “I’m sorry for the wait, but I just got back into the office,” he admitted, showing Yuuri and Viktor over to sit across from him.  His computer was opened to a few legal documents, and Dr. Okuma shuffled a tall pile of paperwork on his clipboard.

 

“Alright, Viktor, you tell me that you’re having some suicidal ideation.  This isn’t something you’ve ever complained about before.  When did this start?”

 

Sighing, Viktor stared at the carpet.  “I… I guess it’s been happening for a while.”

 

“What’s a ‘while’?  A few days?  Weeks?  Months…”

 

“Years,” Viktor whispered almost imperceptibly, and Yuuri looked over at Viktor in panic, not doing a good job of hiding the terror that elicited from his boyfriend.

 

Dr. Okuma had frozen.  “Years, Viktor?  You’ve never brought this up before.”

 

Memory is a funny thing.  It tells you what you need to know when it’s relevant.  You forget everything about high school until you’re pacing the halls, your locker combo ghosting on your fingertips, the ghostly giggle of friends clear as a bell in the hallways.

 

Until last week, when Viktor felt that odd passing urge to jump, he’d blocked so many memories.  So many memories were making so much more sense with that context, with the knowledge that Viktor’s depression had been as severe as he worried about.

 

When Dr. Okuma questioned him, he bristled.  “I wasn’t… ready,” Viktor forced out, breathing deeply as tears started to collect in his eyes.  

 

The room was quiet, the essential oils diffuser rumbling loudly.  For a breath, no one spoke.

 

“Alright, Viktor, then I have some perfunctory questions to assess whether you’re a danger to yourself right now.”

 

The conversation seemed to drain Viktor of all emotion, and Yuuri felt his boyfriend’s grip loosen over the course of the appointment.

 

“Alright, Viktor, when was the first time you remember feeling suicidal?”

 

Viktor was staring distantly at the door.  “I don’t honestly remember.  I definitely hadn’t considered it before my mother attempted it.  There were… I don’t think I realized what it was until recently.  It just felt like I was trying to help myself feel better, but… but now that I know better, I think that I made a lot of unhealthy life choices with the intention of putting myself in danger.”

 

“Like?”

 

Biting his lip, Viktor whispered, “Like doing drugs for a few years.  Standing on top of a tall building and hoping I drop.  Taking pills until I can’t feel anything anymore…”

 

“Was that something that happened?  You made an attempt before?”  


Viktor’s eyebrows knit together.  “It wasn’t my intention to die then, I just wanted the pain to go away.  I just… kept taking them until I had to get my stomach pumped.”

 

This had been hidden from the press, and silent tears were falling down Yuuri’s face as he gripped Viktor harshly.

 

“So you’ve been experiencing passive suicidal ideation for years, now?”

 

A nod, and silver hair falling into dull blue eyes.  

 

“You said one attempt?”

 

A very tiny nod, without eye contact.

 

“Do you have a plan now?”

 

A plan.  There was never a plan, just an insatiable need to break himself out of what he was going through.  “I was standing on the roof of our hotel for a long time last week thinking about jumping.”

 

The sob that ripped out of Yuuri was loud enough to make Viktor cringe.  Yuuri let go of Viktor’s hand and leaned forward, breath coming in short gasps.

 

It hurt to see Yuuri hurt like this.  Viktor wished he had it in himself to care, but Yuuri was  kaleidoscope of color in his life, and right now Viktor saw everything in shades of grey.  He couldn’t make himself do it.

 

Dr. Okuma adjusted his reading glasses.  “Did you go to the roof with the intention to jump?”

 

“No.”

 

“Do you have a plan right now for how you’d like to end your life?”  


Viktor searched himself, but right now he just felt the eternal dull ache of depression, not the silver devil of self destruction.  “No, I don’t have a plan.”

 

“How many times in the last week since that incident have you thought about ending your life?”

 

This would be the hardest part.  “Quite a few times.  Every time I was able to talk myself out of it, though, because I knew that I wanted to stay here with Yuuri.”

 

If the sob was bad before, now it was positively _wrecking_ his boyfriend.  They had to wait a few moments for Yuuri to get his breathing under control, and Dr. Okuma closed his eyes, playing with the cap of his pen thoughtfully.

 

“Viktor, you can see why I’m torn right now.  You’re not currently suicidal, but you’ve admitted to some risk factors that correlate very highly with a suicide attempt.  I would feel more comfortable if you were hospitalized for a few days so we can ensure that you aren’t a danger to yourself anymore.”

 

His eyes widened.  “No, wait, I have plans…”  


His ideas for him and Yuuri to keep Yuuri distracted before competition made Viktor regret ever coming here.  Why didn’t he just keep his mouth shut?  He knows he wouldn’t have done it, right?  Now he’s going to put Yuuri through hell and…he was supposed to be helping Yuuri, not the other way around...

 

Yuuri had stood up, and kneeled now between Viktor’s knees in an incredibly intimate position for being in a doctor’s office.  His eyes bored into Viktor’s, swollen and red.  “I need to know that you’re safe.  Your life does not take a back seat to my anxiety.  Do you understand?”

 

Normally, Yuuri was only assertive like this in the bedroom, but he found his inner confidence for this.  

 

They say that when extreme circumstances occur, people have the durability to withstand it.  They scrape the bottom of the barrel of their strength, and put on their fighting face.  Viktor was looking at Yuuri, who was determined to get Viktor the help he needed.

 

“I’m going to call ahead to get you a bed ready, and I’d like to finish this assessment just so the doctors know what they’re getting.  I’ll also send over my patient file on you.  I have capability to directly admit you to the nearby hospital”

 

Viktor nodded, numbly.  

 

He completed the rest of the assessment with rushing in his ears.  Then, at ten in the evening, Viktor was standing outside of a psychiatric unit of the nearby hospital.

 

It felt so stupid, and so wrong.  Everyone was obviously overreacting, because he was fine.  

 

He was _fine._

 

Yuuri pulled Viktor in for a tight hug, and whispered in his ear, “I love you, and I gave mine and Mari’s cell numbers to them so you can call us.”

 

It was eerie, watching Yuuri walk away while a nurse pulled Viktor in for an intake exam.  It was just like when Yuuri went to the hospital, except… except Viktor didn’t belong here.  He didn’t.  This was all just to cover Dr. Okuma so no lawsuit could be filed against him.  In a day or two he’d be back out in the world with Yuuri, back out to last minute training and movie nights.

 

There was nothing wrong with him.

  


***

  


When he met the other patients, he was sure that he didn’t belong there.  Many of them were tattooed, or had a hatchwork of scars decorating their skin.  These people were like Yuuri, but Viktor didn’t hurt himself.  He never had the urge to cut, and he clearly wasn’t actually planning on killing himself, so he must be fine.

 

He must be.

 

Everyone spoke Japanese for the most part, but quite a few of the nurses and patients knew English, so Yuuri was able to communicate what he needed to.

 

People shared their stories of sexual assault, childhood trauma, and drug abuse.  Viktor felt something listening to the stories, and knew that he could relate to some of them, but… he couldn’t be one of them, could he?

 

At the end of his first full day, he sat down with Dr. Okuma and his on-unit therapist, who gave Viktor a similar, if abbreviate assessment that they had given the day before.

 

“Do you feel comfortable leaving right now?”  


Viktor nodded.

 

“Do you think that you may feel suicidal again if we let you go?”  


He hesitated, remembering how quickly the need struck him while in the hotel.  It was quick as a flash, almost instantaneous, like a streak of lightning across his mind.

 

He told them as much.  They did not discharge him.

  


***

  


The next morning a code was called, and Viktor ran out to see what was going on.

 

A woman was being restrained on the floor, a scattering constellation of pills littering the ground around her.  The nurses were pecking them up quickly, to prevent the other patients from getting their hands on them.

 

It was so quick; a few were near his feet.  It wasn’t planned, but Viktor had pocketed six of the pills before anyone could see.  They sat in his robe, his own little secret.

  


***

  


At lunch, the woman who was restrained was sitting with a nurse next to her, staring off into space and avoiding eating.  One of the other patients who spoke English sat down across from Viktor, eyeing him uneasily.  She had hair cut almost to her scalp, and wide brown eyes that reminded Viktor of his friends who’d used meth.

 

“What?” Viktor fired off, feeling unnerved by the twinkle in her dark brown eyes.

 

“So, are you going to hand them in?”

 

Viktor had been caught.  “Hand what in?”

 

“The pills.”

 

Viktor wasn’t suicidal.  Viktor wouldn’t take the pills.  Viktor wasn’t like them, he wasn’t one of them.  These people were on a whole other level than he was.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“I’m Em,” she said, smiling gently at him.  She held out her hand, and her arm, littered with a myriad of multi-colored scars, gave Viktor pause for only a second before taking it.

 

Dr. Okuma had the hospital sign a confidentiality agreement to not leak to the press, but the patients were under no such legal obligations.  He’d been given permission to use a different name.  “I’m Yuri,” he responded, and she nodded, as if the matter was settled.

  


***

  


The pills were burning a hole in Viktor’s pocket.  He wasn’t going to take them, of course, but he’d have to get rid of them, somehow.  Maybe, because he was in a hospital, if he just took them they would be able to pump his stomach immediately and then…

 

His shaking fingers clutched around the pills.  The urge to take them was getting stronger each passing second, and he stared at the clock.  Barely a few minutes had passed, and Viktor just wanted to get it over with.

 

He still wasn’t one of them.

 

He… he didn’t belong here.

 

At two in the morning, Viktor was staring at the clock next to his uncomfortable hospital bed, when his hand pressed up against his mouth, pills sliding down his throat, hard.

 

He didn’t even know what he was taking.  

 

A pause, a breath of relief when he knew he wouldn’t have to worry anymore, until…

 

Oh.  He… he… he _is_ one of them.  Viktor scrambled up and went into his adjoining bathroom without closing the door, forcing his finger down his throat and vomiting up the dissolving pills.  The teal blue of his stomach acid burned in his mouth as he sobbed over the toilet.

 

They write you up for puking in a psychiatric care unit.  They do blood tests when you admit to taking pills of unknown dose and origin.  They ask you very important questions that seem stupid because, of course, it didn’t work, so why are they so worried?

 

In the morning, as Viktor came out of his room, everyone went quiet over breakfast.  There weren’t many secrets here, and everyone was staring at him warily.

 

Em raised her hand helpfully.  “I’ve got a seat next to me.”

 

When Viktor sat down, Em put a gentle hand on his.  “I know it hurts, but you need to fight through that feeling to get out of here.”

 

This time, instead of a far-away person, he looked up at a kindred spirit, eyes widening in surprise.  

 

Later that day in group therapy, when they asked who wanted to go first, Em nudged Viktor, who stood up and spoke in English, “Many of you don’t understand what I’m saying, but some of you do, and I hope you can provide me the guidance I need.  I… came here and assumed it was a mistake, but last night I made another attempt on my life, and I realized… I realized that I’d been hiding from this for most of my life.  So, I want to ask the group, what do you do to talk yourself out of it in the moment?  How do you stop yourself when you feel like that?”

 

There was quiet murmuring of the translation in Japanese, and soon people were whispering back to the designated nurses.

 

One nurse piped up, “Miss Takashi said that it helps to think of all those you love.  They’ll be the one thing that you can see in the dark.”

 

That seemed.. doable.

 

Another nurse said calmly, “Akio here says that when he’s in a dark place, he makes plans for the next few days, even if it’s just to go to the grocery store, so that he has things to do instead of thinking about the desire to die.”

 

Viktor’s throat started to close up.  Maybe they did understand…

 

Em ran her fingers through her curls, pulled tight to the side of her head.  “For me, I make deals.  If I still want to kill myself by Friday, then I can do it.  If I still want to kill myself after I’m done doing the thing that triggered me, then I can do it later.  Most of the time, the ‘later’ never comes.  The few times it does come is why I’m here in the first place.”

 

Viktor clutched the advice close to his chest, feeling a sense of wonder at the people around them.  If they’d been through that much and still made it out the other side, they must be pretty damn strong.

 

It took a few moments before Viktor realized, yet again, that he was one of these people.

  


***

  


Two days before competition, Yuuri and Mari were standing outside the unit waiting for Viktor with Makkachin and a chocolate cupcake.  They drove home together, and Viktor had new strength and advice warm and fresh in his mind.  He derived strength from those who had been through similar things, and felt safe to finally talk about all the deep dark stuff he was afraid to even whisper to Yuuri.

 

The day he was discharged, Viktor had a debriefing meeting with Dr. Okuma, who was scanning Viktor’s chart from the hospital.

 

“How do you feel now, Viktor?”

 

He thought of Yuuri.  He thought of Em and Akio and all of the people who’ve seen the ugliest parts of Viktor these last few days and still cheered for him to succeed.  He thought of how it felt to come to terms with his diagnosis, finally, after fifteen long years.

 

“Oddly… relieved,” Viktor said, chest expanding with emotion.

 

There was a knowing stare peering out from behind Dr. Okuma’s glasses.  “Let’s keep it that way, yeah?”

  


***

  


That night, Viktor and Yuuri’s foreheads were bent together under the covers, breath tickling each other’s faces as Viktor explained, “After this competition, when all of the stress of it has passed, I’ll tell you all about it.”

 

Yuuri smiled weakly.  “Do what you need, Viktor, don’t hold out on talking about it for my anxiety’s sake.”

 

Shaking his head, Viktor lifted a pale finger to Yuuri’s lips.  “For the first time in years, the weight on me has lifted.  I don’t think I need to talk, just yet.”

 

Yuuri knowingly wrapped his arms around Viktor’s middle, pressing his ear to Viktor’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Skipping summary:  
> Viktor plans a whole bunch of things to keep Yuuri busy so he doesn't freak out before competition season starts. However, Yuuri recognizes that something has been bothering Viktor, and Viktor admits to passive suicidal ideation. They visit his therapist, who directly admits him to inpatient. While there Viktor learns that his struggles aren't just his, and that there were people out there who related to what he'd been through and could validate his experiences. At one point he swallows pills he snatched, but realizes that he doesn't want to die and throws them up. When Viktor returns home, him and Yuuri promise to talk about his hospitalization after competition.
> 
> Next time: Competition is soon, and Yuuri is trying to enjoy the week that Viktor prepared for him without worrying too much about his boyfriend.
> 
> As always, feedback makes my world go round. Comments, likes and shares mean the world to me<3


	36. Silver Snowfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri spend the two days before competition reflecting on all the things that have changed in their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last chapter of "Silver"?
> 
> I know I know it came very suddenly. "Gold" will be released in a few weeks, and I'll be writing short side stories in the interim. Eventually I'll put them all up on here but for no they'll be on my tumblr: painted-lady12. As of right now there is only a Yurio sidestory up there.
> 
> As always, I'm completely at a loss. You guys are so supportive and I couldn't have asked for any better people to share this experience with. If you don't follow into "Gold", I wish you all the best, forever and always.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: discussion of isolation, suicidal ideation, dissociation, anxiety and depression. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Then, reach out to a professional who can help you figure out what's going on. Your problems are real, I promise. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

_Two and a Half Years Earlier_

 

They don’t talk about the in-between.  They talk about being in a bad place, and they talk about being better, but they don’t talk about that grey area within.  They call it “recovery”.

 

They don’t talk about the days that will accomplish nothing.  There are days where the world isn’t crashing down around you but it _is_ crushing your windpipe to remind you just how unfair life can be.  The days where asking for help seems excessive.  The days where everyone watches your every move without anyone watching at all.  The days lost in translation.

 

When you tell your success story, you talk about the days where you made major changes, or when you reached your lowest point.

 

But that can't be every day.

 

There are standstill days, hold your breath days, days that disappear in your memory because they were just about surviving to make it to the next.  There were no victories because there were no battles and yet it’s all still so much…

 

These are the days where you don’t quite want to die, but don’t quite want to live, either.

 

It’s New Years Eve.  Phichit was out with his other friends.  They’d invited Yuuri, but he had declined.

 

He sat in his dim apartment, the light from his blue lamp casting an eerie glow over Yuuri as he laid in bed.  The sheets were ruffled and bunched beneath him, and he was scrolling through twitter, trying to find something, anything to take his mind off of the fact that it was New Years Eve and he was all alone.

 

Yuuri had never had a kiss on New Years Eve.  It was apparently a custom commonly practiced on college campuses.  Many people would just grab whoever was closest and press their lips together.

 

Yuuri thought about venturing outside his apartment to track someone down, but the thought had his stomach tying itself in knots.  He curled in on himself protectively, as if he could protect his nerves from anxiety’s dark pull just by sheer force of will.

 

A thousand words died on Yuuri’s lips as he scrolled through people he could call.  Phichit would answer, of course, but Yuuri didn’t want to bother him.  His family was likely fast asleep, having already rung the new year in earlier.

 

His thumb hovered over Matt’s name.  They’d had sex not two days before, but just the thought of showing vulnerability like this made him squirm.

 

Imagine, calling someone and saying, _“I’m all alone, but... I don’t want to be.”_

 

No, no one was going to save him from this.  Loneliness was the sentence for his dark thoughts.

 

He thought about making resolutions, but it was the same every year.  He’d promise himself that he’d trim down, that he’d start landing new jumps, that he would get better grades.  

 

Every year he failed.

 

Tears were falling silently down Yuuri’s face, now.

 

His phone blinked up at him as his throat started to close up in a silent panic attack.   _11:11._

 

_Make a wish._

 

Yuuri’s body was heavy, weighing him down.  The stained sweatshirt that billowed around him made him feel safe and warm.  There was a pile of dirty dishes next to his bed even though he’d barely eaten anything in days.

 

When the semester ended, and his failure from the rest of the skating season sunk in, he was all alone to wallow.

 

Yuuri’s foggy bedroom window suddenly started scattering light, and Yuuri sat up and squinted, realizing that it had started to snow.

 

In awe, Yuuri knelt on his bed, watching as the quiet wonder of nature threw light around the streets, glittering onto cars and coating everything in something magical and special.  

 

A strange fancy took Yuuri over, and his chapped fingers (nails bitten to the quick) pried his bedroom window open.  He didn’t have a screen, and the cold blast of air that washed over him made his whole body feel real and alive and _magical._

 

_Make a wish._

 

College kids cheered in a bar nearby.  A dog barked for it’s owner to stop staring at their phone.  A few cars slowed down, deterred by the snow and determined to get home safe.

 

Yuuri crouched on the bed, the glittering snow reflecting off his glasses, lanky hair parted in front of his big brown eyes.

 

He might be alone on New Years Eve, but he has this.

  


***

  


Have you ever had a lucid dream?  There’s this moment during the dream, isolated completely, where the person _realizes_ its a dream.  It’s a flash of clarity and insight that’s as jarring as it is singular.

 

Viktor would liken it to when you were coming down from a really insane high, and you had a moment during all the madness where you realize just how fucked things are, just how fucked up you are, and the dread and fear comes crashing down before the high takes over again.

 

Then you’re just stranded without a paddle, knowing that you were on a sinking ship.

 

Viktor looked out onto the dance floor of the club.  The lights blinded and cast ghostly shapes into the air.  The concrete expanse was writhing with intermingled bodies, glow-in-the-dark wristbands and light-up glasses illuminating the darkness and drawing the eyes of everyone in the area.  Viktor took a sip of his light-up martini, draping an arm around Elena.

 

She looked perfect, her long hair tied up in a high, straight ponytail.  Her eyeliner was as sharp as her tongue, and her dress glittered enough to draw every eye in the club.

 

That only made Viktor clutch her closer.  He leaned down and started nibbling teasingly on her neck, making her swoon.

 

He might not claim ownership of her normally, preferring to remain casual, but tonight she was his and only his.

 

They were seated on the high-backed couches in the VIP area.  Viktor reserved the section, and Georgi, Christophe, and a few of his other friends from the area were chatting and giggling and dancing, drinks blinding as the celebration labored onwards.

 

It was New Years Eve, and Viktor was surrounded by people.  Not just strangers, either.  Some of his very best friends were smiling with him and touching him and…

 

Pause.  Breathe.  Mind goes blank, numb, skips over a beat of the music then gets right back on track with...

 

Wait, where was he, again?

 

Oh, right.  Club.  New Years Eve.  Surrounded by his loved ones, and dancing bodies, and he has his arm around…

 

...Elena.

 

Viktor tilted her face up for a consuming kiss, making her bite down on his lip playfully.  

 

“Vitya, we’re still in public, you know,” she teased, though she knew Viktor didn’t care.

 

It was all theatrics, a show.  A game.

 

None of it felt real.  Viktor deepened the kiss with Elena to feel something, _anything,_ because her touch wasn’t grounding him the way it should and the club felt like a computer game or something happening on a screen, not something he could reach out and touch.  Even Elena’s small hands brushing under his t-shirt, even Chris moving in for a scandalous selfie, even when the countdown began for midnight, Viktor tried his best to…

 

...where was he, again?..

 

Like a record player that keeps skipping.

 

Skip.

 

Skip.   _Where am I?_

 

_Am I here, or am I asleep?_

_Am I dreaming?_

_Is any of this even real?_

 

“...two, one, HAPPY NEW YEARS!”

 

Somewhere in Detroit, Yuuri Katsuki was telling Phichit that he didn’t want to go out tonight.

 

Somewhere in Viktor’s mind he knew that all of this couldn’t be real.  How did time pass so quickly?  When was he going to wake up?

 

Skip.

 

Skip.

 

Today was New Years Eve and Viktor was drowning.  He was drowning because despite the fact that Viktor could feel and touch and see and smell and taste and hear and despite the fact that those he loved were surrounding him and despite the fact that there were literally hundreds of people within throwing range, Viktor felt completely and utterly alone.

 

Somewhere in the back of Viktor’s mind, he knew that all of this was, in fact, real, but this voice was too quiet, sound covered up by the music and the dancing and the swallowing darkness in his chest.

  


***

  


_Present Day_

 

Somewhere in Hasetsu, Japan, Yuuri Katsuki was feeling like the world was so heavy and overwhelming.  It wasn’t the end of the world, but it hurt, and he started walking.

 

Somewhere else in Hasetsu, Viktor Nikiforov felt reality start to slip like quicksilver between his fingers, and he started walking.

 

They felt like they did more than two years ago on the same day, but it’s September now and they moved without having to think towards each other.

 

They had competition in two days, and had practice all day after Viktor’s discharge, but they sought each other out again, feeling like two passing ships in the fog, looking for the guiding light to take them home.

 

When Mari went to look for them for dinner, they were curled up on the living room couch together, clutching each other like life depends on it.

 

She nudged them gently awake, and they blinked up at her, then at each other, their eyes softening into something hopeful and happy.  It was like they’d awoken just waiting to see if the other was still there, and were very happy to report that it wasn’t all a dream.  They really were together, and they really were here.

 

The look hit something deep in Mari’s stomach like a sucker punch, and when she backed out of the room she touched her chest lightly, wondering when she realized that her brother had found his soulmate.

  


***

  


Viktor and Yuuri were idling outside of a small house, looking apprehensively at the door.

 

“Maybe this was a bad idea…” Yuuri started.

 

Viktor nodded, biting his lip.  “I'm sure it will be fine.”

 

They both took deep breaths and got out of the car, marching to the front door despite their worries and knocked.

 

A radiant Yuuko answered it, hair done up in a fancy bun and purse already slung around her shoulder.  “Hi, you guys!  Come on in, Takeshi and I are just finishing getting ready.”

 

They had promised Yuuko that they would spend the night with the triplets while her and Takeshi went out for a romantic dinner.  The plan was to take them to the movies, then to ice cream.  Viktor had planned this excursion before he was hospitalized, and was very pleased that it was one of the ones he was back in time to participate in.

 

Until… well, until Viktor realized that he’d signed up to watch three tiny girls for a night.

 

“We left money on the counter for the movies, and the paper next to it is which candy they prefer and which ice cream flavor they each prefer.  Usually they try something without thinking about it and then won’t eat it, so make sure to stick to the list.”

 

Yuuri nodded, fingers threading with Viktor’s reassuringly.

 

Takeshi came down, finishing off tying his tie.  “Hey, Yuuri, could you…”

 

“Oh!” Yuuri came up and helped him finish it as his fingers adjusted his hair one last time.  Yuuko pressed a kiss to both of their cheeks as Takeshi moved her towards the door.

 

“Enjoy the movie, guys!”

 

Viktor and Yuuri waved.  “Enjoy dinner!”

 

Silence, for a few seconds.  Then…

 

“Uncle Yuuri!”

 

“Uncle Viktor!”

 

“Is that a scarf you made?”

 

“Are you nervous for competition?”

 

“Why haven’t you let us see your free skate outfit yet?”

 

“Can I try raspberry ice cream today?”

 

It took about twenty minutes, but eventually the three six-year-olds were buckled into the back seat of the car, and Viktor was going over the candy and ice cream options that Yuuko had left out.

 

“This looks delicious!” Viktor beamed up at Yuuri, who smiled fondly back.

 

“Yuuri, are you and Viktor ever going to have kids?”

 

“If you do, can we be their aunts?”

 

“Are you going to ever get married?”

 

“Are you guys going to adopt?  A lot of celebrities adopt.”

 

At the start of the movie, Viktor and Yuuri grasped their first bit of silence, leaning towards each other in the dark theatre.  The triplets were sitting directly in front of them, chugging popcorn like it was water, eyes reflecting the screen with wide wonder.

 

At ice cream later, Axel tugged on Viktor’s sleeve.  “Where did you go last week?  We had to be Yuuri’s coaches.”

 

A bright blush bloomed on Yuuri’s cheek as he yelled, “hey, I told you not to ask that!”

 

Loop cocked an eyebrow.  “Why not?  Viktor would tell us, right Viktor?”

 

This was followed by Lutz batting her eyelashes up at them.  “Uncle Viktor wouldn’t lie to us, would he?”  


There was a moment when Yuuri and Viktor looked at each other in panic, where things were communicated without speaking. Viktor’s look of terror showed Yuuri that Viktor would be uncomfortable talking about it, but Yuuri’s smile of encouragement reminded Viktor that he doesn’t need to be afraid.

 

“I was sick last week,” Viktor said slowly, and the three girls all cocked their heads to the sides in unison.

 

“Flu?”

 

Taking a deep breath, Viktor said calmly, “No, my body wasn’t sick, my mind was.  I was feeling a little unwell mentally, so I got treatment for that.”

 

Narrowing her eyes, Loop muttered, “You don’t look sick.”

 

“I’m better, that’s why.  They made sure I was safe and now I get to spend my time with you girls and Yuuri.”

 

Axel nodded with conviction.  “Everyone has bad days.  You just had an extra bad one!”

 

It was so easy to explain to children.  Children hadn’t had it drilled into them that mental pain was less than physical; children didn’t realize that having a mental illness wasn’t just like every other illness.

 

Children knew what was right and what was society fucking with them all, and the triplets looked up at Viktor with quiet understanding.  They placed down their ice cream cups: mint chocolate chip, lemon, and red velvet.  They each grabbed Viktor tightly, one around the leg, and one on each arm.

 

“We love you, Uncle Viktor.  We’re glad you’re feeling better.”

 

It was so easy.  Tears formed in Viktor’s eyes, and Yuuri joined in on the group hug, holding everyone tightly.

 

“We’re all glad,” Yuuri whispered a kiss onto Viktor’s earlobe, and the dark evening wind brushed their hair around their faces.

 

Finally, Viktor whispered, “Thank you, girls.”

 

They finished their ice cream and got back to the house while Yuuko and Takeshi were taking off their coats.

 

Yuuko looked relieved, despite how adamant she was about getting a date night.  “Did you guys have fun?”

 

Axel jumped into her mother’s arms.  “We gave Viktor a hug to feel better!”

 

“Yeah, he was getting better in the hospital and we’re happy that he’s back.”

 

Viktor blushed a deep crimson.  He hadn’t asked Yuuko’s permission to share that information with her children ahead of time, and was starting to have second thoughts.  Instead of saying anything to Viktor, Yuuko and Yuuri ended up taking the girls up to bed.   Takeshi handed Viktor a beer.

 

“You told them about being hospitalized?”

 

It didn’t feel like an accusation, but Viktor was far too used to people covering up their agendas.

 

“I told them that my mind wasn’t feeling well and that I got treatment,” his voice was stone-cold.

 

Smiling, Takeshi undid his tie, lifting it up and over his head.

 

“Honestly, Viktor, you did the right thing.”

 

“I… wait, what?” Viktor mumbled.

 

“God forbid any of my girls go through what Yuuri or you have been through, but if they did...  If they did, then they have two people in their lives who have set good examples for them.  They know that getting help is okay, and that it’s normal, and that mental health is so important.  I never got that as a kid, and I’m glad my kids are getting exposure to it.”

 

Yeah, Viktor was definitely tearing up again.  “Takeshi…”

 

“You’re not just good for Yuuri, Viktor.  You’ve made all our lives better by coming to this little town by the sea.  If my girls know this side of you, I know it can only help them moving forward.”

 

Something melodic drifted down the stairs: a lullaby?  No, not a lullaby…

 

Viktor felt like he was in a dream as he climbed up quietly and peered in at the triplets all gathered onto one bed, curled around Yuuri, who was singing.

 

They didn't see Viktor at first, and Yuuri’s melodic voice whispered happily through the words to “stay close to me”.

 

Yuuko came up behind him and squeezed his hand.  “Thank you for tonight.”

 

It was nighttime and the stars were dazzling above and somewhere in the distance a staggering amount of lonely people were thinking that they would never find that special someone.

 

And here Viktor leaned against the door frame, heart melting as Yuuri whispered the lyrics to the song that brought them together, and he thought, _I’m so happy I found you._

  


***

  


It was the day before competition, and Yuuri was getting a massage, mind going completely blank as two hands worked some soothing oils in his skin.  

 

Viktor was standing outside, fall wind whipping his silver hair around him.  

 

Tomorrow they would be leaving at the crack of dawn to get Yuuri to his competition.  They were staying at a hotel in the area to make it easier when the competition is over.  Viktor didn’t want Yuuri stressing about getting back home while he was competing.  

 

There was the sound of a door sliding open, and suddenly Viktor wasn’t alone in the garden anymore.  Toshiya was wiping his hands off with a rag, and smelled mildly of cleaning products.  Viktor smiled happily at him, and he touched his shoulder, staring meaningfully at the Russian man.

 

“Hiroko is looking for you.”

 

The two of them were not particularly capable of meaningful speech, but basic phrases in both English and Japanese were possible.

 

Before Viktor walked off, Toshiya stopped him, furrowing his brow in concentration.

 

“You’re good for my son.  Please stay.”

 

When he was done he looked pleased with himself, and Viktor mulled over the words as he walked towards the kitchens to help Hiroko with dinner.

 

What did he mean?  Unless…

 

If Yuuri fails at competition tomorrow, Viktor wouldn’t have a Grand Prix skater to coach.  He… he wouldn’t have a reason to stay.

 

Of course he would, but from the outside perspective it would appear that Viktor would go where he was actually needed.  Except… Viktor never wanted to be surrounded by people, completely alone again.  He wanted Yuuri to be near him, skating or no skating, because without Yuuri Viktor was…

 

_Whether he wins or loses I’m staying._

 

When Yuuri got home, and after he finished eating dinner, Viktor took him loosely by the hand to his room where their two suitcases were packed away already.  Viktor closed the door and brought Yuuri to the bed, pushing him gently down and removing Yuuri’s sweatpants.

 

The younger man opened his mouth to talk, but Viktor pressed a finger to his lips.

 

His other hand started massaging Yuuri’s cock, then pressed his lips to it, taking in the head and letting his saliva dribble down to add lubrication to where his fingers were working diligently.  The feeling of having Yuuri keen and moan beneath him was exhilarating, and it reminded him that Yuuri was his, even though things seemed shaky, because even though the world might fall apart, he would be right here with Yuuri until the end of everything.

 

“V-vik-tor,” Yuuri sobbed, hands snaking into silver hair.  “Don’t stop… ah, just like that!”

 

When Viktor swallowed him down one last time, heat spurted across his tongue, and Viktor made sure to get every last drop as Yuuri shook on the bed with the force of his orgasm.

 

Yuuri was his.  Yuuri was his and he wasn’t letting go for anything.  Yuuri was his and he’d never be able to let him go…

 

...the realization was staggering, knowing just how completely lost over this boy he was.  As Viktor pressed gentle kisses to Yuuri’s stomach, and then crawled up onto the bed to cuddle with him, Yuuri sighed in content.

 

This was real.  This was real and Yuuri was beneath him and no matter what happened tomorrow, they would be together.

 

“Viktor?  Are you alright?”

 

Nuzzling closer, Viktor whispered, “I’m staying.”

 

Pause.  “What?”

 

A sharp inhale, tensed muscles, then a warm hand brushes his hair aside to stare into his baby blues.

 

“Win for me tomorrow, yeah?”

 

A small nervous chuckle as Yuuri relaxed, arms coming around Viktor tighter.  “Yes, coach.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you from the bottom of my heart. "Every Thread of Gold" will begin with block championships. I will try to have the first chapter out before the end of February.
> 
> There have been a lot of serious themes in this fic. If you guys have any questions or concerns, I always answer messages on tumblr or twitter. I may post another chapter on this to explain the psychological profiles I've created for our two Good Boys, and why their way of healing can be so similar and so different.
> 
> "As every thread of gold is valuable, so is every moment of time."


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